What Is Meant to Be
by ak-stinger
Summary: AL slash. The frustrated prince of Mirkwood meets a ten-year-old boy. Years later, their bond transforms into the truest love of all. Goes from before their first meeting to "The Return of the King". COMPLETE
1. The reluctant sunshine

_Title_: What is Meant to Be  
  
_Author_: ak-stinger  
  
_Warnings_: This story contains **slash**; Aragorn and Legolas slash, to be exact. If you don't like slash then you won't like this story and I advise you not to read it. This story also has** AU** elements and there is no Arwen. It will be mostly movie-verse when it gets to that part, although it'll also have some book-verse stuff. Don't bother telling me that I'm messing up the timeline; I know and love the books and any discrepancies in the timeline or anything else are deliberate. Reviews are happily welcomed; constructive criticism is appreciated; flamers will be punished. I've given you fair warning and if you still read a story you know you won't like and will be offended by, you desperately need a life. If you go a step further and actually take the time to flame me then a little public ridicule may do you some good. Telling me that my story/I'm stupid and nothing else helps no one. I'm not saying this to be mean or defensive; I'm just trying to save us all a little time and energy.  
  
_Disclaimer_: This doesn't belong to me. It belongs primarily to Tolkien's estate and secondarily to Peter Jackson, et al. I'm only writing this because I love their work so much. Please don't sue me.

Legolas entered the throne room, took one look, and promptly spun around to run out the door. He really didn't hope to escape before his father blocked the door, but he still had to try. They had done this countless times before and Legolas now viewed his futile escape attempts as a means of protest rather than anything that would result in him being able to avoid the torture that was coming.  
  
Right on cue, his father, King Thranduil, was there, standing between him and freedom. "My Little Greenleaf -"  
  
Legolas groaned. Being that he was less than 100 years away from the age of majority, his father only used that childhood term of endearment under three circumstances: when Legolas was sick or injured, when Thranduil was feeling wistful or affectionate, or when one of them was about to endure something extremely unpleasant. "How many, Ada?" he asked.  
  
"Only ten," reassured Thranduil.  
  
"Well," hedged Legolas, "that's not so bad, I guess -"  
  
"And then thirty," he added hastily, hoping against hope that Legolas wasn't paying attention.  
  
"Forty! Well, still that's not as bad as it could be."  
  
"And then..."  
  
"How many in all, Ada?" Legolas demanded. "I'll find out eventually, you know. It's best that I hear it from you, now." His face was grim. "Don't you remember the last time I didn't find out how many there were until we were in the midst of it?"  
  
Thranduil shuddered at that unpleasant memory. He took a deep breath and braced himself. "There are 150, ion nin."  
  
Legolas looked at him, half disbelieving and half horrified. "150?" he whispered urgently. "Are you certain?"  
  
His father nodded, silent.  
  
"Get out of my way."  
  
Thranduil looked at him sharply. "Excuse me?" he said, more statement than question.  
  
"Get out of my way," repeated Legolas, his panic and ire rising. "Do you really think I'm going to sit on that stupid stool and endure 150 of them? Ai Elbereth!"  
  
_"Legolas Thranduilion!"_ scolded Thranduil. "Do not utter that phrase as a curse! You know better than that. Such behavior is not suitable for any elf, let alone the Sun Star of the Elven race."  
  
"I'm not any kind of star -"  
  
"You have been named the Sun Star, my Little Greenleaf," Thranduil said slowly but insistently. "All elves call you that. You inspire beautiful poems and songs -"  
  
Legolas groaned again, wishing that the Sindarin language wasn't too pretty and flowery to have adequate curses for this situation.  
  
"And if someone cares enough to create a poem or song about you," his father continued, "then you must, as a courtesy, listen to their work."  
  
"Ada," Legolas whined, glad he wasn't old enough to be above whining yet.  
  
"Legolas," said Thranduil soothingly, "just one more session. Then you can leave for your visit to Rivendell. You can have fun with the twins and not be bothered by all this. I promise you, Lord Elrond won't make you listen to any song or poem that you don't want to hear. Let's just get through this now; please, my child?  
  
Legolas let out a resigned sigh and sat on the stool. The king stood next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, partly to let everyone who came know that the Sun Star had a father who watched over him and partly to keep Legolas from bolting. "Send in the first troubadour," Thranduil ordered Galion, his butler.  
  
Each came in, one at a time, to present their poems and songs about the beauty of the Sun Star. Legolas gave them all the same benevolent look and serene smile. His thoughts, however, weren't so serene and kind; he was bored out of his skull and feeling quite contrary. _Hair as golden as the yellow sun, huh? Did you come up with that all by yourself? And my eyes are as blue as the sea around Valinor? Why don't you go to Valinor right now? So you think my beauty is indescribable, huh? Then why have you been going on about it for the last ten minutes? Ai, Elbereth, why do they always say the same things? Is there some set of rules that tells everyone what to write in these things? Be silent! All of you! Be silent and go away!'_ He often felt that those thoughts kept him sane during one of those insufferable sessions!  
  
When it was finally over and his father's hand was no longer restraining him, Legolas jumped off of the stool, bolted from the throne room, and ran straight to the archery field. His bow and quiver full of arrows were still out; he'd been there before his father's summons forced him to endure 150 elves gushing about his beauty, one at a time. Ai, he could still hear them! He could even see them, on his targets...  
  
He picked up his bow, readied an arrow, and fired, hitting both the imaginary troubadour and the bulls-eye. "Do I still have beautiful hair and a soothing presence?" Another shot, another bulls-eye. "Do my eyes still look bluer than blue? What in Mordor is that supposed to mean?" Legolas shot away his annoyance and frustration, one bulls-eye after another.  
  
Sighing, feeling cleansed, Legolas left the archery field for a nearby meadow. He sat down under a tree, allowing his mind to wander to happier thoughts, like his upcoming trip to Rivendell. Finally, he was going on a vacation in every sense of the word. No sessions, no troubadours, and he'd see the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, elves his own age that wouldn't fawn over him because people had decided to call him the Sun Star. He smiled as he thought about his identical friends. He hadn't seen them in over 100 years; he wondered if anything new was happening in their lives.  
  
To be continued...


	2. The eager shadow

Legolas smiled at the three people he saw waiting to greet him as he entered the valley of Rivendell. When he'd ridden his horse the final few feet, he dismounted gracefully. "Greetings from my father and myself, Lord Elrond," he recited the proper greeting to his host.  
  
"Such a polite young elf," Elrond said, his eyes twinkling. He signaled to Legolas' guards, who were watching from the top of the valley. Assured by Elrond's signal that their prince was safely in his care, they turned their horses to start the long trek back to Mirkwood. Elrond turned his attention back to his guest. "And to think," he teased, now smiling, "this is the same young elf that managed to sneak enough dye into my shampoo to turn my hair blue on his last visit!"  
  
Elrohir and Elladan, who were standing beside their father, snickered at the memory. Legolas' face broke out into a smile and he grasped the elf lord's shoulder. Elrond reciprocated the action, though his movements were slower and a little clumsy. "Are you feeling well, my lord?" asked Legolas.  
  
The twins hurried forward to Legolas' side, eager to greet their friend. "Don't fret over Ada," reassured Elrohir. "Poor health is not to blame for his less-than-elven grace today."  
  
"You see, Legolas," piped in Elladan, "it is difficult to move when a child is clinging to the back of your robes."  
  
"A child?"  
  
"Yes," said Elrond, fussing with something close behind him. "I have a - Estel, let go of my robes! - I have a new son. Estel, let me introduce you to Legolas."  
  
A boy finally stepped out from his hiding place behind Elrond. Legolas stared at him, confused. A new son? It had only been a little more than 100 years since his last visit and this child looked much older than that! How could he not know about him? There was something odd about the boy too, but Legolas couldn't place it at first. He bore a passing resemblance to Lord Elrond and his sons, with the same gray eyes. Estel also had the same dark hair all Rivendell elves had, worn long and tucked behind his ears...  
  
Legolas started. The child's ears! Estel's ears were round. "Yes," said Elrond, seeing his guest's surprise. "Estel is of the race of Men. Eight years ago, when he was two, he came into my care and I'm now blessed to call him my son."  
  
"Lucky us," said Elladan, amusement in his eyes. "We got a new little brother just in time for toilet training. What a horrible time! It was such a mess."  
  
"It was disgusting," agreed Elrohir, shuddering at the memory.  
  
Estel, for his part, didn't seem to mind or even notice his father's words or his brothers' teasing. His eyes were wide and fixed on Legolas. His head was tilted up to see the elf better and his mouth had dropped open. Legolas smiled at the awestruck boy. "Greetings, Estel Elrondion," he said, lowering his body to the boy's level. "I am Legolas Thranduilion, or Legolas Greenleaf if you like that better."  
  
Estel stared at him for a while longer. "You're pretty," he finally said.   
  
Legolas' smile was a mixture of bemusement and the serene smile he gave to the troubadours in his father's court. "Thank you for your kind words," he said.  
  
"Your horse is pretty too. I like brown horses."  
  
Elladan couldn't resist the opportunity to tease both his little brother and Legolas. "Estel," he mock scolded. "Do you dare to compare a horse's beauty to that of the exquisite Sun Star?"  
  
Estel's ears turned red. "I didn't mean it like that!" he cried. "I just meant..."  
  
"I know what you just meant," comforted Legolas. He threw Elladan a Look. "Pay no attention to the ramblings of a feeble-minded elf. I happen to think my horse is pretty too. Most of the people in Mirkwood have white horses and I like how he stands out. He's got a lot of spirit too."  
  
"Can I ride him sometime?" asked Estel. "Maybe we could go horseback riding together! We could go down to the river. The river's nice to swim in, especially this time of year, so if we ride down there, we might as well go swimming. We could take a picnic and make it a day trip! And -"  
  
"Estel!" exclaimed Elrond, chuckling at his youngest child's enthusiasm. "Perhaps we should allow Legolas a chance to settle in his room and rest before we plan out his entire visit."  
  
"Oh," Estel looked awkward for a moment; then his face brightened. "I can show Legolas to his room!"   
  
"Elladan and I will do that," Elrohir cut in. "We haven't seen Legolas for awhile and there's a lot we need to catch up on."  
  
Elrohir and Elladan linked arms with their friend and the three headed in the direction of the Last Homely House. They had only gone a few feet when they heard footsteps behind them. Turning their heads ever so slightly, they saw they boy, who hurried to hide behind a statue. "Estel," Elladan whispered to his companions, nodding over to his younger brother's hiding place.  
  
Elrohir looked slightly embarrassed. "I fear you may have a new shadow, Legolas," he told his friend.  
  
Elladan frowned. "Just tell him to go away," he advised. "You don't need our little brother ghosting your steps for your entire visit."  
  
"It's all right," Legolas assured them. "Estel seems like a nice boy, who is just curious about the new person in his home." He looked over at Estel's hiding place and smiled. "I look forward to spending more time with him."  
  
Estel grinned and bounced with glee. Legolas wanted to spend time with him! A rush of pride he hadn't felt since the time Elrohir taught him to ride a horse filled him. He squared his shoulders and raised his chin. Elladan noticed his movements and sighed. "That is good," he told Legolas, "because I fear that now you wouldn't be able to get rid of him even if you wanted to.

To be continued...


	3. Foundations of a bond

_A few months later...  
_  
_This visit has gone by much too quickly,'_ decided Legolas as he sat in Elrond's magnificent gardens. He took a deep breath as he enjoyed the beauty of living flowers, shrubbery, and trees while reflecting on the last few months. They had been fun. Elrond only insisted on a minimal number of schooling lessons for him, which was why Legolas was alone in the gardens rather than with the twins, learning about the history of Eriador. He had spent many happy days in the archery fields, horseback riding, taking walks, and making mischief with Elladan and Elrohir. He'd passed the nights away joyfully in Elrond's halls, listening to songs, poems, and tales that were not about his hair, eyes, etc.  
  
Legolas glanced toward a bush that was moving ever so slightly and smiled. It was Estel. The human child had become Legolas' faithful shadow, watching him in the archery fields, venturing to follow when he and the twins rode or walked far, and - if unable to come along - waiting to greet him when he returned. Legolas was surprised at how well he tolerated Estel's unabashed admiration and unwavering attention. He chuckled slightly, recalling the one time he spoke to Elrond about his youngest son's vigilance.  
  
_Flashback:  
  
"Lord Elrond?" said Legolas, standing in the doorway of the study.  
  
"Come in, come in," said Elrond, waving his hands. Legolas entered and sat down across from the desk where Elrond was seated. "What can I do for you, child?"  
  
Legolas hesitated. "It's about Estel," he finally said.  
  
Elrond sighed. "I apologize for his, um, enthusiasm toward you. I will tell him that he must leave you be."  
  
"No!" said Legolas, startled by his own objections about Estel leaving him alone. "I don't mean that. He's a nice boy, and his presence has become so frequent that I'm actually comforted by it. It's just that..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Estel is very young."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And there are certain situations that may not be appropriate for him to witness."  
  
"Are you courting someone or being courted?" asked Elrond.  
  
"No," blushed Legolas. "Not that type of situation. I'm referring to the times I bathe."  
  
Elrond raised an eyebrow in surprise. While elves weren't exhibitionists, they were not shy or embarrassed about their bodies. "He is not looking on purpose," Legolas continued, "but he does seem to have a crush on me. Perhaps a little more modesty than usual would be best right now."  
  
Elrond chuckled. "I think you are right, Greenleaf. It is not wise to let Estel think it's appropriate to spy on someone he has romantic feelings for when they are nude." His face turned serious. "But, truthfully, you do not mind his attentions?"  
  
"No, my lord. He is a very sweet boy."  
  
End flashback  
  
########################  
_  
Estel strained his eyes through the branches of his hiding place. What he saw took his breath away; by the Valar, Legolas was pretty when he smiled! He smiled to himself. Estel considered himself an expert on when Legolas looked prettiest. Months of diligent observation had allowed him to see the prince shooting targets, riding his horse, reading all sorts of stuff, walking, and swimming (although his father forbade him to follow Legolas down to the river for some reason). He knew that the elf looked prettiest when he was happy and doing something he loved.  
  
Estel sighed happily. Legolas was so nice, too! When his brothers teased him for being a pest, Legolas defended him and let him tag along. He sat by him when Estel was allowed to attend the night's festivities. He'd let him ride with him on the pretty brown horse. Even better still was when Legolas had been so impressed by his riding skills that he let Estel ride the horse all by himself. His chest puffed with pride at the memory. He loved impressing Legolas. He could recall in perfect detail and incident on the archery field, when he impressed Legolas the most:  
  
_Flashback:  
  
"Estel, put that bow down before you hurt someone!" scolded Elrohir.  
  
Elladan sniggered. "Estel has never hit the target, let alone the bulls-eye," he fake-whispered to Legolas.  
  
Estel's cheeks burned. It was bad enough his brothers teased him about his lack of skills and coordination when it came to archery. Did they have to it in front of Legolas?  
  
"It must run in the family," joked Legolas. "Should I tell him some stories about a certain set of twins learning how to shoot? Don't you have lesson to be at, anyway?"  
  
"We're late!" Elrohir and Elladan took off.  
  
Legolas watched them go and then approached Estel. The boy's head hung down, so he knelt in front of him and took his chin in his hand, urging the child to look at him. When he did so, Legolas saw the tears of embarrassment in his eyes. "Come now, Estel," he said softly. "Don't be upset."  
  
"My brothers think I'm not good enough to do this," Estel responded, his voice shaking with shame.  
  
"Your brothers are not ones to be talking like that!" Estel was startled by the anger in Legolas' voice. The elf took a deep breath and his voice softened. "It took months of practice before Elrohir could hit the target consistently and a few more years after that before he could hit the bulls-eye more often than not. As for Elladan -" Legolas laughed.  
  
Estel was intrigued. "What about Elladan?" he asked.  
  
Legolas leaned in closer and fake-whispered, "After about two years of lessons his aim was still so terrible that he once missed the target entirely and hit Erestor in the hind end!"  
  
Estel's eyes widened. "He didn't!"  
  
Legolas nodded in the affirmative, laughter inhibiting his ability to speak. Estel joined in his laughter and it was several minutes before either of them could talk. When they had calmed down a little, Legolas patted Estel's arm. "Seriously, Estel," he said, "don't listen to your brothers when it comes to archery. You only need to practice hard and I know you'll master it."  
  
"Could - could you teach me a little?" asked Estel, timid yet hopeful.  
  
Legolas smiled.  
  
#####################  
  
A few hours later, the twins returned to the archery field to find Legolas and Estel still there. Their brother clutched a down in his hands. "Estel," Elrohir said warningly.  
  
"Give it up, little brother," condescended Elladan.  
  
"I won't!" said Estel defiantly. "I'm getting better. I bet I could do better than you right now."  
  
Elladan rolled his eyes. "Oh, please," he scoffed. "Legolas, may I borrow your bow?" Legolas handed it over without saying a word. Elladan notched an arrow, took aim, and fired. The arrow hit the target just outside of the bulls-eye. He smirked. "Beat that."  
  
Ignoring the smugness in his brother's voice, Estel readied his own weapon and took aim. Elladan reached out to tickle him, but Legolas caught his wrist. "Don't," he said. "Estel didn't hinder you, so please do the same for him."  
  
Estel fired. The arrow flew through the air and hit the target. Three mouths - Elrohir's, Elladan's, and Estel's - fell open in shock and Legolas smirked. The arrow was embedded just inside the bulls-eye.  
  
"Well," said Legolas as he stepped forward to stand by Estel, "that certainly beat you didn't it, Elladan?"  
  
Elrohir snapped out of his shock. "He could not do that again!" he exclaimed.  
  
"No, probably not right now," concurred Legolas. He squeezed Estel's shoulder. "But he did it when it counted. I'm most impressed."   
  
Pride like he'd never known filled Estel. "It was a lot better than hitting one of Ada's advisors in the butt, wasn't it?" the boy smirked.  
  
Elladan started. "Legolas!"  
  
Legolas grabbed Estel's hand. "Come victorious one!" he said jovially. "We must flee from those who are jealous." Hand-in-hand, they led the twins on a merry chase all over Rivendell, telling everyone who would listen of Estel's triumph on the archery field. Estel loved the pride he saw in the prince's eyes whenever they repeated the tale. It was then that Estel knew with all of his ten-year-old heart and soul that he was in love with Legolas.   
  
End flashback  
  
_And now Legolas was leaving in a few short days. Estel despaired; would he even remember him after he went home?  
  
Should he tell Legolas that he was in love with him? Elrohir and Elladan would laugh at him if he did. Well, let them! Legolas wouldn't, even if he didn't feel the same way about him. Estel sighed, his mind made up. Now all he had to do was figure out a way that was special enough to say "I love you" properly to the most beautiful being in the world.

To be continued...


	4. The best troubadour of them all

The guard looked impatient. "My prince," he insisted. "The others are waiting outside the valley. We must join them soon so we can get in a good day's travel before nightfall."  
  
Legolas adamantly shook his head. "I will not farewell the Lord's family when his youngest son is not present."  
  
The guard sighed, exasperated by Legolas' stubbornness. It didn't help matters that until an hour ago he hadn't even known Elrond had another son. He would have thought his prince had invented the child as a way to delay his departure if Elrond and his sons hadn't been present to confirm the tale.  
  
Elrond cleared his throat. "Perhaps Prince Legolas can farewell the twins and myself" he suggested diplomatically. "I'm sure Estel will be here any moment."  
  
Legolas and Elrond faced each other and bowed slightly, each moving one hand out from their chests in a sweeping motion. "Farewell, Lord Elrond," said Legolas. "I thank you for your hospitality."  
  
"I thank you, young prince, for your kindness, patience, and wonderful manners," he replied. "You are a credit to your father and to Mirkwood."   
  
Legolas moved on to the twins, grasping Elrohir's shoulder first, and then Elladan's. "Farewell, dear friends," he said. "May we meet again soon."  
  
"Rivendell always feels empty after you leave," Elrohir responded.  
  
"We are grieved to see you leave," said Elladan. He lowered his voice to a whisper so the guard couldn't hear: "We didn't even get the chance to put that red dye in Erestor's shampoo." The three smiled, repressing their giggles for a more appropriate time.  
  
The guard mounted his horse. "I am sorry, my prince -"  
  
_"WAIT!"_   
  
The guard watched, amazed, as a young boy who was clearly of the race of Men rush forward. The boy glanced at him ever so briefly before resting his gaze on Legolas, who smiled with relief and delight. "Thank the Valar, Estel," he said. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to you."  
  
"I'm sorry I'm so late," responded Estel, "but I -" He glanced at the guard momentarily and blushed - "I wrote you a poem," he concluded with a whisper. Telling Legolas he loved him in front of his family was awkward enough; expressing it in front of a stranger would be downright embarrassing.  
  
Legolas sensed his hesitation and turned to the guard. "Will you wait for me by the beginning of the road east?" he requested. "I will meet you there shortly."  
  
"Yes, Prince Legolas," said the guard, who eyed Estel with amazement and suspicion before leaving.  
  
Legolas knelt down in front of Estel so he could look him in the eye. "I will hear your poem now, Estel," he declared.  
  
"Legolas," said Elrond, who knew how much the prince hated hearing the sort of poem that he was sure Estel had written, "if you do not have the time -"  
  
"No, no, Lord Elrond," Legolas dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand. "My father taught me that if someone cares enough to write a poem about me, then I should listen to it. Please proceed."  
  
Estel lifted the paper that he'd neatly written the poem on, cleared his throat, and read:  
  
_You like to ride your horse,  
  
You are happy when you swim,  
  
You listen to the talking trees,  
  
You smile when we win.  
  
You read for fun and school,  
  
You're really good at archery,  
  
I love you and I know,  
  
You are prettiest when you're happy.  
_  
Estel blushed and ducked his head. It had sounded fine when he wrote it, but now that he'd read it to Legolas, the poem seemed stupid. Behind him, Elrohir was trying to hold back a grimace. Elladan didn't even bother trying not to roll his eyes.  
  
Legolas struggled to regain the power of speech. "Estel," he finally said hoarsely. Estel looked at him and saw tears in his eyes. "I have heard and read many poems, but I like yours more than any other."  
  
Estel grinned. "Really?!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I want you to take it," declared Estel, pressing the paper in the elf's hand. "So you can have something to remember me by."  
  
"I gladly accept," said Legolas, carefully rolling the paper. "However, I need nothing to remember you." He leaned forward and kissed the boy on the cheek. Estel covered his cheek with his hand, his face alight with awe.  
  
Legolas placed the rolled paper in one of his packs and mounted his horse. "Goodbye, everyone," he called out. "I hope to see you all again very soon." With that he turned his horse and rode away, before leaving became any more difficult. Heading towards the eastern road, he stuggled to master the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He certainly didn't want to explain to his guards why he was so upset about leaving the company of a ten-year-old mortal; Legolas barely understood himself.

Estel stayed firmly in place, watching after Legolas until he was completely out of sight. "Will he visit again?" he asked.  
  
"Eventually, yes," answered Elrond.  
  
"When?"  
  
Elrohir put his hand on his little brother's shoulder. "His previous visit was over 100 years ago," he said gently. "And the roads are much more dangerous now."  
  
"You mean," the boy choked out, "that I might never see him again?" The sympathetic looks were all the answer he needed. Sobbing, Estel ran to the Last Homely House and to his room, oblivious to his family's calls, the servants' questions, and anything but his own pain.  
  
_############# A few days later...  
_  
"Greetings, Mithrandir," said Elrond.  
  
"Greetings, good Lord Elrond," replied the wizard. He scanned the faces in front of him and frowned. "I see Elladan and Elrohir, but no Estel. Tell me, where is he?"  
  
Elladan rolled his eyes. "He's in his room, moping." Elrond shot his son a sharp look and Elrohir punched his shoulder.  
  
Mithrandir raised his eyebrows, silently asking for more information. "He is grieved by the departure of the Sun Star," explained Elrohir.  
  
"Estel has met Prince Legolas?" Mithrandir asked, speaking almost to himself.  
  
"Yes, he has," sighed Elrond. "And now he suffers the pain of first love, unrequited and impossible. I wish he'd fallen for someone a little more, well, within his reach. Right now I fear all we can do is give him time for his heart to mend."  
  
"Too right, too right," agreed Mithrandir, a little too hastily, "but I'm still going to check on him before we discuss the business at hand.  
  
_#########################_  
  
Mithrandir knocked on Estel's door. Receiving no reply, he let himself in. The curtains were drawn and no lamps were lit, making the room very dark, but he could still see the tear stains on the boy's cheeks. It appeared that Estel had cried himself to sleep.  
  
Mithrandir stroked Estel's hair, but the sleeping form didn't stir. "Do not despair," the wizard murmured. "You do not yet know on what paths your life will take you. You will see him again, for what is meant to be will always find a way to be."  
  
To be continued...

_A/N to reviewer Destiny Lot: _Don't worry; I haven't forgotten about Troy. I just like to have a few chapters written before I start posting so I can update on a fairly regular basis. This story's been occupying my mind, but hopefully I'll be able to start posting a Paris/Achilles story in about a week or so.


	5. The dreams that stay with you

_Eleven years later...  
_  
Aragorn exchanged glances with his fellow ranger, Halbarad, as they and four others walked deeper into the forest of Mirkwood. The trees blocked out almost all of the sunlight. All was quiet, except for an occasional rustling of branches. Aragorn shivered; it felt like the trees themselves were watching them with distrust and malice. How could Legolas come from such an ominous place?  
  
He stopped, allowing himself the luxury of once again remembering the elvish prince. He hadn't seen or heard from Legolas since the time he'd kissed him on the cheek and rode off, back when he was still known as Estel Elrondion. Before he learned that his true name was Aragorn, that his destiny and burden were great, and that he needed to be trained as a ranger. Few messages or messengers had ridden between Mirkwood and Rivendell since the prince's last journey, as the road was becoming too perilous.  
  
Now he and this group of rangers were in Mirkwood, seeking an audience with King Thranduil on Mithrandir's behalf. Aragorn couldn't get rid of the butterflies in his stomach and the feeling that he was about to fly out of his skin. Ever since he found out he'd be journeying to Mirkwood, he'd been excited and nervous at the prospect of seeing Legolas again. He sighed, shaking his head. _'How very silly,'_ he berated himself, '_to cling to a childish crush for so long! He probably doesn't even remember you.'  
_  
Hearing the young man's sigh, Halbarad turned and saw that Aragorn was no longer walking with them. "Halt!" he called to the others before turning to Aragorn. "What's the matter?"  
  
Before Aragorn could even open his mouth, at least two dozen elves sprang down from the surrounding trees and drew their bows. The rangers were at a loss of what to do - they knew that the Woodland king wouldn't listen to them, or believe their message if they fought with the sentries. At the same time, they didn't want one of their own to be injured or worse by a nervous border guard. Aragorn glanced at Halbarad, unsure of what the right thing to do was. Time seemed to stop, and then -  
  
"Daro! Lower your weapons." Aragorn started; he knew that voice! He could see a figure in the crowd moving toward the rangers, despite protests from others that he should stay where he was. The young man forgot to breathe as the figure pushed past the front line of guards and came into view of the rangers.  
  
All six pairs of eyes grew wide at the sight of the elf before them. For many years, Aragorn had wondered if memory had exaggerated Legolas' beauty. Now he could see that his recollections hadn't done the prince justice.  
  
Legolas' eyes never left Aragorn's face. "Estel?" he asked.  
  
Aragorn bowed slightly. "Greetings, Prince Legolas," he said. "I'm flattered that you remember me."  
  
"I could never forget you," Legolas responded, smiling happily. A gasp came from one of the rangers and Aragorn recalled the final line of the poem he'd written eleven years earlier: _you are prettiest when you're happy._ He touched his cheek briefly as a smile broke out on his own face.  
  
All eyes were on the two. The rangers were stunned that Aragorn knew the beautiful creature. The elves wondered at the familiar way their prince talked and interacted with the man. Halbarad finally managed to recover his wits. "We bear a message from Mithrandir to King Thranduil of Mirkwood and request and audience with him as soon as possible," he announced.  
  
Legolas started out of his revelry. "Of course," he said, sparing Aragorn one last long look. "We will escort you there."  
  
_####################_  
  
Halbarad and the other rangers were with King Thranduil, discussing Mithrandir's message. Aragorn would have gone with them, but Legolas had requested that he stay behind so they could talk. Now two guards watched from across the room as the two conversed.

"Amazing," said Legolas, as Aragorn finished his tales about his first year with the rangers. "To think that little boy from Rivendell is so capable of enduring such peril."

Aragorn blushed. "I'm sure you've gone through much more than I have," he said. "Guarding Mirkwood's borders sounds dangerous."

"I haven't done much at all," Legolas scoffed. "It was only just recently that I convinced Ada to let me join the border guards, and he put me with the company on the border of Beorn's land. _Nobody_ ever came that way before, and now that someone has I'll be taken off duty. I wish there was more I could do!"

"Your time will come," Aragorn told him. "I think Mithrandir wants you to play a part in something he has planned. Maybe he'll have something for me to do too and I could go with you."  
  
"You're still young Estel at heart, aren't you?" smiled Legolas. "But you've grown up so much." He reached up, his fingers tentatively brushing Aragorn's beard. Aragorn tried to ignore the tingly feeling in his skin. "I never imaged you with a beard," he said, his smile now wistful. "And I never thought I'd have to look up to see your eyes. You are called Aragorn now?"  
  
"Yes," answered Aragorn. "I had feared that I've changed too much for you to recognize me."  
  
"You have grown up, yes; but I will always recognize you."  
  
The door swung open. Legolas removed his hand from Aragorn's beard and the two took a few steps away from each other as Thranduil and the rangers entered the room. "Tell Mithrandir," Thranduil was saying, "that any being, save the servants of the enemy, can pass through Mirkwood. All I ask is that they do not harm the forest or animals, do not bother my people, and are always truthful about their intentions. Legolas?"  
  
"Yes Ada?"   
  
"Do you still have extra maps of the realm?"  
  
"Yes," he answered. "They are in a drawer in the outer chambers of my quarters."  
  
"Good," said the king. "I'll need one to mark an acceptable path through Mirkwood. Could you please get one for me after the session?"  
  
Legolas scowled. "Yes, Ada," he said. He nodded to the rangers, smiled half-heartedly at Aragorn, and left.  
  
_#################_  
  
"Where could Legolas be?" fretted Thranduil. He was supposed to be in the throne room in a few minutes. "The rangers," he concluded. "He must be visiting with that Estel ranger."  
  
He found the rangers just outside of his cavern palace, but Legolas wasn't with them. "You," said Thranduil, pointing at Aragorn. "Have you seen my son?"  
  
"Not for a few hours, my lord."  
  
"Where could he be? He's going to be late."  
  
Aragorn thought for a moment. "Where are your archery fields?" he asked.  
  
"Of course," breathed Thranduil. "He can't stay away from there. They are just over that hill. Will you fetch him for me and escort him to the throne room?"  
  
"Yes, my lord." Aragorn rushed off in the direction of the archery field.  
  
He arrived to find Legolas angrily firing at the targets. Aragorn cleared his throat and Legolas glanced up, surprised. "Your father sent me to fetch you," Aragorn explained.  
  
"How did you know I was here?" asked Legolas.  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Legolas," he said. "No one could change that much. After that scowl, I figured you would come out here to shoot your frustrations away."  
  
"I find my upcoming duty awkward and unpleasant," responded Legolas. He put his bow down and sighed. "But there is no use in delaying the inevitable. I will come with you."  
  
The pair made their way to the doors outside the throne room, where Thranduil was waiting. "Let's get this over with," Legolas sighed.  
  
Father and son entered the throne room. Aragorn watched from the door as Legolas sat on a stool in the middle of the room. Thranduil stood next to him, one hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?" he asked a nearby guard.  
  
"The prince is receiving troubadours."  
  
As Aragorn listened, he understood. Legolas was listening to songs and poems written for him and about him; beautiful songs and poems. His cheeks burned as he recalled his own childish poem. _'It must have sounded so stupid to him!'_ he thought with shame. Aragorn rushed away from the throne room and wandered the halls. No thought entered his head other than to get away from his perceived humiliation.   
  
"Where are you going?" a guard questioned has he walked by.  
  
Aragorn cursed silently and thought fast. "The prince asked me to fetch a map of the realm for Mithrandir," he replied. "He told me to get it from his outer chambers while he and his father were occupied with the troubadours."  
  
The guard nodded. "It is up the stairs and to the right."  
  
Aragorn thanked him and went to the prince's quarters. Since closing the door would rouse suspicion - and just standing there would even more so - he thought it best to look for the map in case anyone came by. Where did Legolas say they were?' he asked himself. A drawer.' He frowned; there were many drawers in this room.  
  
He randomly chose the one closest to the bedroom door and opened it. He looked in it and gasped. Inside there was a single piece of paper with childish but neat handwriting on it. It was his poem, the one that he wrote eleven years ago!  
  
He was only dimly aware of someone entering the room. "Aragorn," Legolas' voice invaded his shock. "I was told you...'  
  
Aragorn looked up as Legolas' voice trailed off. The elf was looking at him, confused and concerned. "Is something the matter, Aragorn?"  
  
Aragorn held up the poem. "I can't believe you kept this," he whispered.  
  
Legolas shut the door and crossed the room. He carefully took the poem from Aragorn, laid it reverently back into the drawer, and closed it. "I told you before," he said, looking into the young man's eyes. "I like this poem more than any other I've heard or read. It's my favorite."  
  
Aragorn shook his head in disbelief. "You hear beautiful poems every day," he said. 'That one is terrible in comparison -"  
  
"Those poems are about the Sun Star, not me," Legolas asserted firmly. "All of those people admire and write about my looks. They say they know every detail about my beauty; and the irony is that the only one who's ever bothered to really see me is a ten-year-old boy." He focused firmly on Aragorn. "I believe," he continued, "that even now, you're the only person who really sees me."  
  
Aragorn suddenly understood the difference in Legolas' behavior; why he'd been so carefree in Rivendell and more cautious and formal in Mirkwood. He understood Legolas' scowl earlier and his own father's reaction to his request that he listen to his poems all those years ago.  
  
"Those troubadours love the Sun Star," Legolas said flippantly, but a hint of vulnerability came through in his tone. "They're in love someone who doesn't exist."   
  
Aragorn put his hand on Legolas' arm, keenly aware of how close they were standing. "They are in love with the Sun Star," he said hoarsely. "They're all fools, but let them love a shadow. I'm in love with you."  
  
Legolas' eyes widened. "You love me?" he asked. "You told me that before, but I'd thought you moved on to different loves."  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "I could never move on," he stated. "I've been in love with you for eleven years and that love grows even now."  
  
Legolas reached up, cupping the cheek he'd kissed at their parting in Rivendell long ago. Then he pulled Aragorn's face to his, gently kissing his lips. "And I love you, Aragorn," he breathed. "I love your determination and your strength. I love that you understand me. I love your bravery. I love that you talk to me rather than sing and recite at me. I love how that sweet little boy from Rivendell is still a part of the man who's in front of me now. The man I'm in love with."  
  
Aragorn cupped either side of Legolas' head. "Say it again," he begged, planting butterfly kisses the elf's eyelids, forehead, cheeks, hair, and nose. Legolas gasped when Aragorn kissed the tip of one pointy ear and then the other. "Please say it again."  
  
"I am in love with you," gasped out Legolas. "I love you, Aragorn."  
  
"I love you too, Legolas Greenleaf." Their lips met again, gentleness now giving way to passion. A passion that neither of them had ever felt before, a passion that was filling their bodies. They opened their mouths; as the kiss deepened, both knew that they would not, could not ever love anyone but each other.  
  
To be continued...


	6. Can dreams really come true?

Legolas reluctantly broke off the kiss, though their foreheads still touched even when their lips weren't. "Aragorn," he breathed. Aragorn was so enticed by the sound of the elf prince's voice saying his name that he leaned in closer, capturing Legolas' upper lip between his own. Legolas gasped and grabbed the back of Aragorn's head with both hands, pulling him forward and deepening the kiss.  
  
When they stopped to breathe, Legolas spoke again. "Aragorn," he said, putting his fingers on the human's mouth before he could kiss him again. "We must stop this."  
  
Aragorn couldn't stop the crestfallen look from spreading across his face. "Of course," he agreed hurriedly. "You were just caught up in the moment, taken for a while by a sweet madness. Please don't think ill of me; perhaps Eru was just granting a wish that I've carried with me for more than half of my life."  
  
Legolas grabbed his face on either side firmly and forced him to look in his eyes. "I didn't mean that we should stop forever," he said with a mixture of laughter, annoyance, and sympathy. "Just for right now. At any moment, a guard - or worse, my father - will come looking for us. If they find us behind a closed door, kissing within a few feet of my open bed chamber door, they would think we were about to let our passions get the better of us; and in that situation, things could get really unpleasant. Besides, if you keep kissing me like that -" he paused to kiss the tip of Aragorn's nose - " then they would be thinking correctly."  
  
Aragorn liked the idea that his kisses drove Legolas mad with passion. Legolas raised an eyebrow. "What?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"You're proud of yourself," laughed Legolas warmly. "You think you've impressed me greatly."  
  
Aragorn blushed. "How did you know?" he asked sheepishly.  
  
"You always puff your chest when you're proud of yourself," answered Legolas, still smiling. "You did that in Rivendell, when I let you ride my horse all by yourself for the first time, and when you bested Elladan in archery."  
  
"It's scary how well you know me," admitted Aragorn. "From our first meeting to this moment, when you look at me it's like you can see past my flash and into my soul. Sometimes I think I must be naked when you see me." He suddenly looked embarrassed. "Not that I'm suggesting that you should look at me naked," he stammered. "And I'm not saying that you shouldn't either. Not that you have to. But if you want to, you certainly can. But not now. Unless you want -"  
  
Legolas covered the man's mouth again. "Shhh," he murmured. "I understand what you mean because I feel it too. You appear to have seen my soul and committed it to memory." He closed his eyes in pleasure as Aragorn started kissing, licking, and sucking the hand he held over his mouth. "And, in Elbereth's name, if you keep doing that we will definitely be seeing each other naked in the very near future and that's not something we should be doing right now."  
  
"You're right," Aragorn reluctantly conceded. He pulled back. "Where is that map we're supposed to be fetching?"  
  
"Over here." Legolas opened a drawer by a bookcase, pulled out a large piece of parchment, walked to the door, and motioned for Aragorn to follow. When they were side-by-side, Legolas opened the door as quietly as he could. "How is your archery going?" he asked conversationally as they walked to the stairs.  
  
Aragorn looked at him, bewildered. Legolas threw him a Look and he understood: they had to pretend that everything was normal in case one of the omnipresent guards were listening for sounds of their return. "Very well," he answered a little too loudly. "I'm more competent with a sword, though."  
  
They continued with this nonsensical conversation as they descended the stairs. Halfway down, Aragorn saw that none other than King Thranduil was waiting for them at the foot, wearing a look of veiled suspicion on his face. _'He doesn't know what we did up there,'_ Aragorn reassured himself. _'Even if he does, we didn't do anything wrong. Except he'll think it was terribly wrong.'_ He silently willed the panic not to show on his face. _'Oh Elbereth, I'm going to be beheaded if I can't calm down!'  
_  
Beside him, Legolas was all innocence. "Ada," he smiled. "Were you looking for me?"  
  
Thranduil frowned at them. "What were you doing up there?"  
  
"I told Estel here to where the map of Mirkwood was so he could get it for Mithrandir while we were with the troubadours," he replied, gesturing at Aragorn. "But afterwards, I remembered that I'd moved it to make room for some letters, so I went up there to help him find it. You know me, Ada; I couldn't remember where I put it. It took forever for us to find it!" He laughed and Aragorn forced himself to laugh too.  
  
Thranduil narrowed his eyes, but sighed. "You're late for your training," he told his son. "And I'm sure that the rangers need Estel for _something_."  
  
"Of course," said Legolas, still smiling. "I will see you later, Estel."  
  
"Yes," Aragorn stammered. "Thank you, Legolas - Prince Legolas, I mean." He bowed. "Good day, King Thranduil."  
  
Aragorn could have sworn he saw the king roll his eyes. As the two walked away, Legolas glanced back over his shoulder and threw him a loving look. Aragorn stood erect until father and son were out of sight. Then he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, sagged his shoulders, and wiped his face with both hands.  
  
_####################_  
  
Aragorn excused himself from the rangers and went in search of Legolas. He found him alone in a meadow near the archery fields, practicing the sparring techniques he'd just been taught. Aragorn stood there for a moment, watching the graceful moves. It always amazed him how elves could make something so dangerous look like a dance. _'Perhaps,'_ he mused, _'they can hear the song of creation and always seek to move in time with it.'  
_  
Legolas grinned when he heard Aragorn approach. "Are you going to come over here, meleth?" he asked teasingly. "I promise I won't hurt you."  
  
Aragorn returned his grin. "That's good to hear," he said, walking over to embrace the elf.  
  
"I thought you were going to keel over on me this afternoon," declared Legolas.  
  
"I was petrified," he admitted. Legolas chuckled and kissed him on the lips. Aragorn sighed and stroked the prince's cheek. "But it's worth it," he continued, whispering. "You're worth it."  
  
Legolas let out a contented sigh and wrapped his arms around the ranger. "I could stay like this forever," he murmured. "Does that sound good to you?"  
  
Aragorn pulled him even closer, as close as they could get. "It does," he said. "But the rangers are leaving here tomorrow."  
  
"Then let's not waste time talking about such unpleasant things."  
  
"Do you have any other ideas about how we should occupy our mouths?" asked Aragorn slyly, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. Legolas laughed and kissed him. "That's a start," muttered Aragorn, their lips still together. "But I can still talk -" His words broke off into a groan as Legolas slipped his tongue into Aragorn's open mouth. Their tongues dueled for awhile; Aragorn thrust his in and out of his lover's mouth, tasting all over. Legolas was pressed fully against him -  
  
"I suppose I should be glad I'm interrupting before something even more serous happens," a loud voice called out suddenly.  
  
The lovers froze for a moment, then turned to see King Thranduil standing at the edge of the meadow. "Ada!" Legolas exclaimed, flustered for possibly the first time in his life.  
  
Thranduil gave his son a small, grim smile. "It's not often that you're at a loss for words, Little Greenleaf," he chuckled. His face hardened as he turned his gaze at Aragorn. "I suppose you have something to say to me?"  
  
"I, um, I," choked out a panicking Aragorn.  
  
"I thought so," said Thranduil. "You must excuse us, my son. Estel, or should I say Aragorn, and I must speak in private."  
  
To be continued...

_A/N: I'm using the names Estel/Aragorn to distinguish between the little boy that Legolas loved in a platonic, vague way he didn't undertand and the man that he's in love with and attracted to in a sexual way._

_I got my first flame the other day. I'd been planning to make brutal fun of any flames I received, but now that it's happened I find I really don't care. **Everyone else has been fantastic and I really appreciate each and every nice word and constructive criticism. ** If you think my story is "REALLY dumb", then by all means don't read it. Just remember the Golden Rule and let's try to curb this emmense wave of negativity and rudeness that's out there on a lot of websites. Being rude and flaming someone doesn't make others see you as special, important, or intelligent; they think of you as moronic loser pricks._


	7. Complications, challenges, and vows

_'He's not going to kill me,'_ thought Aragorn desperately, trying to convince himself. He lifted his eyes to look at King Thranduil, how was sitting across from him, behind a desk, and watching him fidget._ 'He's like a spider watching an insect that got caught in his web! No, don't think like that. He won't kill me, not if he wants to maintain peace with my ada. But Ada doesn't know where I am and no one knows when I'll be able to go back home! By the time he hears about anything, King Thranduil will think up a believable story and all that's going to be left of me is a skull on a stick that's used to warn people about what happens to those who touch his son! I'm going to die!'  
_  
"Well," said Thranduil, interrupting Aragorn's silent, panicked ramblings. "You know why I wish to speak to you."  
  
"You want to know what I was doing with Legolas," he responded in a shaking voice.  
  
"My wife hasn't been away for that long," said the king sarcastically. "I know what you were _doing_ with my only child."  
  
By the Valar, when did it get so hot in there? "You want me to explain why I was doing what I was doing with Legolas," Aragorn said timidly.  
  
"Unless you are missing some essential body parts," replied Thranduil, still staring at the terrified young man, still not moving, "I also know why you were, as you put it, doing what you were doing."  
  
_'Okay, so he's not like a spider. He's like a cat, playing with a caught mouse before he tears it to bits.'_ Aragorn flushed. "You want to know my feelings toward Legolas."  
  
"Now that I don't know," Thranduil said, his voice mingling sarcasm with condescension. "Though I daresay I could easily guess. Would you care to enlighten me?"  
  
Aragorn steeled his nerves and looked the king in the eye. "I love him," he declared.   
  
Thranduil didn't look impressed. "A lot of people think they love my son," he said dismissively, "but they don't grope him in a public place."  
  
"They don't love your son," blurted out Aragorn.  
  
That got Thranduil's attention. He gave the ranger a sharp look. "What do you mean by that?" he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.  
  
_'This may be your only chance. Don't blow it!'_ Aragorn took a deep breath. "They love the Sun Star," he said, recalling Legolas' words. "Many admire him for his beauty the same way they admire Caradhras for its beauty; as something to admire only from afar. Others love the creature who sits quietly on that stool and smiles serenely at their songs and poems. They think he's always like that and don't bother to see beyond that mask. I love Legolas, not the Sun Star. I love how he teases me when I get too flustered, how he chooses the horses that are brown, or smaller, or more spirited, because he likes how they stand out. I know that smirk that he gets when he's pretending his archery targets are the people and things that are annoying him at the moment; the way he wrinkles his nose when he reads something fascinating; how he spreads his arms a little when he's surrounded by green, living things, like he's absorbing them into his body. I love his sarcastic nature and how his mind is still firing away even when he's silent. I know your son, my lord, and I love him. I'm in love with him."  
  
Thranduil stared at him for a long time. "You are sure you're not just attracted to him because of his beauty?" he finally asked. "You don't want him just so you can have the glory involved with bedding the Sun Star?"  
  
"He is very beautiful," Aragorn replied. "I do have eyes, and I 'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to him in that way. But no one can fall in love with someone for their beauty alone. Not in the way I'm in love with Legolas."  
  
"I don't doubt that you believe you're in love, Aragorn," said Thranduil. "You seem like a true and honest man. I didn't believe such a thing still existed. I am sorry for you."  
  
"Sorry for me? Why?"  
  
The king sighed. He did look very sympathetic. "My son has yet to reach the age of majority," he told the man. "He still needs my permission to be with someone and I can't allow him to be with you. I cannot give your relationship my blessing."  
  
Aragorn's blood burned and he forgot all about being civil and respectful. "Why?" he spat out. "Are all mortals not good enough? Or is it just me?"  
  
"Do not take that tone with me," growled Thranduil. "It is true that the love of an elven prince is beyond the reach of all mortals, but that's not why I can't let Legolas be with you. Like I said, I don't doubt that you _believe_ you love my son, and I'm sure he thinks he loves you, but what do you two know about love? Young love always feels intense and real, but almost always it withers as you get to know each other. How much time have you actually spent together?"  
  
Aragorn fell silent.  
  
"And even if this love stands the test of time," the king continued, "there are still complications neither of you have considered. You are mortal. To be with you, to be bound to you, Legolas would have to give up his immortality. What could you offer him in exchange for giving up the eternal peace and joy that Valinor offers? Would he have to live the nomadic life of a ranger, owning nothing but what he can carry on his back, facing the scorn directed at all rangers in the north? Or would he live in a hut in the wilderness where you would visit him every couple of years, when time allowed. Perhaps he would live in a dirty room in an inn, surrounded by drunks, and possibly worse. The very best you could offer is to live with him in Rivendell, among the shadows of things passed and abandoned homes that will remain when those who dwell there now depart for the Undying Lands. No, Aragorn; I cannot and will not give up Legolas to any man less than the king of a renewed Gondor and Arnor. Nothing less would do."  
  
Aragorn's breath hitched. "I understand, my lord -"  
  
The door crashed open and Legolas burst in, his fury evident on all his features. "You _understand?!"_ he roared at Aragorn.   
  
"What have I told you about listening at my door?" scolded Thranduil, looking only mildly surprised by his son's sudden entrance.  
  
"I'm not just going to sit there like a piece of luggage waiting to be taken to wherever you two deem is best," snapped Legolas. "How dare you presume to dictate who I'm going to be with?"  
  
"I dare because you are still underage," said Thranduil through gritted teeth. "The law of every land says that as a minor you need my permission to wed, or to do anything else that married people do."  
  
Legolas ignored his father's response and turned his wrath on Aragorn. "And you!" he fumed. "How can you say that you're in love with me and then accept that we can't be together with an _'I understand'_?"  
  
"I am Isildur's heir," Aragorn said calmly.  
  
"How could you not even try to put up a fight - what?"  
  
Aragorn squared his shoulders. "I am Isildur's heir," he repeated, looking at the stunned look on Thranduil's face and the thoughtful one on Legolas'.  
  
"Lord Elrond always sheltered the heirs of that line," said Legolas as understanding dawned on him. "That line is related to him through his brother Elros. I always thought you bore a passing resemblance to him..."  
  
"I do love you, Legolas," Aragorn declared, "and I want us to do this properly, not like thieves in the night who are ashamed of themselves." He turned to Thranduil. "I will earn your blessing and your respect," he said. "It may take years to do so, but if becoming king of a renewed Gondor and Arnor is what it takes for your approval, then that's what I'll do."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "I don't doubt it," he said. "However, that will take many years in the lives of men, if it happens at all. Several years will pass between the brief times you two can see each other. By the time you earn my blessing, you may find that your youthful love is gone."  
  
Aragorn shook his head stubbornly. "My love is deep," he promised, and removed a silver ring from one of his fingers. "Ada gave me this ring when he claimed me as his son. It is dear to me, and I want you, Legolas, to have it as a token of my love."  
  
Legolas smiled as he accepted it. "Thank you," he whispered. A look crossed his face. "One moment!" he shouted as he ran off. He returned a few minutes later with a green gem in his hand.  
  
Thranduil started when he saw the green sparkle. "Legolas..."  
  
Legolas firmly ignored his father and held it out to Aragorn. The man saw it was a cloak brooch marked with the impression of a leaf. "This is my greenleaf," he explained. "My mother gave it to Ada when they were courting. She said it combined her favorite decorations, the living leaves, with his love of gems. My father gave it to me when she left for Valinor, so that I would know why she wanted to name me Legolas. I want you to take it so that you always know I love you."  
  
Aragorn's hands closed around the gem. "I will keep it with me as long as I live."  
  
_###################  
_  
Legolas sat in the meadow where his father caught him with Aragorn, fingering the ring that he wore on a chain around his neck. Three months had passed since Aragorn and the rangers departed and he still felt like he did that day, when he could no longer see their horses. He had no way of contacting him, and it wasn't like Aragorn would come across anyone willing to take a message into Mirkwood. Legolas' heart grieved to know that it might be decades before he even heard from his love again.  
  
"A little greenleaf should not be so unhappy in a field as fair as this," a rich voice boomed from behind him.  
  
Legolas turned, stunned. "Mithrandir?"  
  
Mithrandir chuckled and sat down next to him. "Hello, Legolas," he said. "I've come to cheer you up."  
  
Legolas smiled at him sadly. "Thank you," he said, "but I'm afraid only one person could do that."  
  
"Ah, young love," replied Mithrandir. "I believe that this 'one person' you speak of is the same person who wrote this letter."  
  
Legolas took the parchment that Mithrandir was holding out. It was indeed a letter from Aragorn! Mithrandir leaned in closer. "I must speak with your father," he confided. "Our meeting will last a day or two. Then I will return to the rangers of the north. Perhaps you'll have a letter of your own to send out by then."  
  
"You don't know how much this means to me, Mithrandir," said Legolas.  
  
Mithrandir waved his hand. "I'm merely playing my part," he told the elf prince. "As I told a child who cried himself to sleep eleven years ago, so shall I tell you know: what is meant to be will always find a way to be. Especially when there are wise and nosy wizards around to interfere."  
  
To be continued... 


	8. Letters interlude

**A/N:** _In the years between their declarations of love and the council of Elrond, Aragorn and Legolas saw very little of each other. Brief meetings happened once every few years at the most, so the letters Mithrandir carried between them were extremely important. These are a few of those letters:  
  
Dear Aragorn,  
  
I found out why Mithrandir needed the map of Mirkwood and Ada's leave for any, save the servants of the enemy, to cross the realm. It wasn't just to reintroduce us! It seems that thirteen dwarves and something Mithrandir calls a "hobbit" were going to that dragon-infested mountain beyond the Lake Town to reclaim some lost treasure hoard, and they needed to go through the forest to get there. They apparently didn't have the map, and refused to tell Ada what they were doing here, so he had them locked in the cellars until they were willing to be more respectful of our laws. A curse on dwarvish stubbornness! That stubbornness led my people into being involved in a battle with rocs, wolves, and other such awful things. Many elves didn't return. How I wish I could have gone and helped, but Ada forbade it.  
  
How I miss you! Through all the pain and tragedy my people have experienced as of late, my thoughts were ever on you. When I need comfort I think on our last meeting two years ago and thank Mithrandir in my heart for helping me sneak to the forest border to see you. Ada found out, and I was grounded for the winter, but it was worth it just to look into your eyes again. One winter is nothing compared to feeling your arms around me, feeling your mouth on me. Our love, our relationship, is worth going through any hardships that lie ahead.  
  
I'm touching the ring you gave me right now. The chain it's on has never left my neck, not since the day you gave it to me. When I feel it, I can almost feel you touching me, kissing me. The ring gives me faith and hope that we will be together, no matter what happens. I hold my love for you above anything else in my life. It grieves me that we must be apart, but you, like the healer you are, always revive my soul with your letters and visits.  
  
Are you still in Gondor? Have you returned to Rohan, Rivendell, the north, or even to Lothlorien? Or have the rangers and/or Mithrandir led you to some dark place ever farther away? All I know about your whereabouts is that when I think of you, you are here with me. When Ada makes me listen to those troubadours, I silently recite the poem you wrote for me and I can smile. They don't know that my smiles are just for you.  
  
Stay safe, my love. I pray that the Valar protect you and Eru brings you back to me. Amin mela lle, always.  
  
Legolas_

_##################  
  
Dear Legolas,  
  
I am Thorongil no longer. Leaving Gondor gave me so many emotions. I felt saddened to leave the company of the steward Ecthelion. He is a good friend and a true man, and his soldiers are brave and worthy. Gondor will need men like that in the future. I'm also a little relieved; the steward's son, Denethor, never liked me. I think he knew, or at least guessed, my true identity and wasn't happy about it. He will not surrender the rule of the realm to anyone willingly once he takes office. He believes he can do no wrong and does not even see the folly of trusting Saruman over Mithrandir, even when Saruman seeks to stall all actions against Mordor. Most of all, I feel the hope that I always feel when I leave anywhere, the hope that I'll be seeing you soon; and the despair of knowing that it won't be soon enough.  
  
I'm sorry I can't be with you again just yet. Mithrandir needs me to help him with something, something that he promises could lead to the downfall of the enemy. In quiet moments, I imagine a future with Sauron vanquished, Gondor and Arnor renewed, and you and I finally together. I know you'd love me whether I was the highest king or the lowliest servant, and I want to prove to everyone, especially your father, that I'm worthy of that love. I often wonder if I'm strong enough to do what must be done, but then I think of you and remember your belief in me. I remember your smile and I know I have to try.   
  
It might be awhile before Mithrandir can carry any more messages between us, as we are going into some desolate parts of the land. I will be safe; how can I not be careful knowing that I get to love you until the ending of the world and beyond? I carry you in my heart wherever I go.  
  
Aragorn  
  
######################  
  
Dear Aragorn,  
  
I finally found a way to be of some use, and Ada only has the barest of objections to it. Everything started when the new king of Dale came here, taking care for the formal introductions and reestablishing treaties. Ada wasn't looking forward to this - he doesn't particularly like the men of Dale because of their friendship with the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain - and the first meeting was very awkward. Afterward, I introduced myself to them; I haven't really met any of the race of Men except you and I wanted to ask many questions. After watching us converse, Ada asked me to conduct the remaining meetings while he supervised! It wasn't that difficult, as our old treaties continue to work well for all parties and King Brand is a fair man, but it was still nice to find something I can do that may be helpful to the future of Mirkwood and possibly other lands. Ada says I have more diplomacy than he does, but to be careful with whom I'm diplomatic with.  
  
Your last letter filled me with worry. I do not doubt your skill, even in such a desolate place, but I wish there was something I could say that would give you more faith in yourself. You are a brave and honorable man; do not make the mistake of thinking yourself to be infallible, but also trust in your strength of will. In all of your letters, you reveal all of your heart and soul to me and I know you can overcome anything. I begged Mithrandir to take me to you when he arrived; I'll beg him again, but if your reading this then he has told me once more to be patient and wait, for my time is coming.  
  
I love you. It's funny; I was reading over your old letters yesterday, recalling all the times you revealed more and more of yourself to me wither you realized it or not. When you gave me your ring, I loved you with all of my heart. Now I love you with all there is of me. Remain safe, trust in yourself (and in my love, and in Mithrandir), and know that you're always in my thoughts.  
  
Legolas  
  
#################  
  
Dear Legolas  
  
Sometimes I feel that this mission will never end. The trail takes me farther and farther east and at times it's difficult not to despair. How can what I'm hunting survive in such horrible places? Well, I suppose I survive here well enough, as does Mithrandir when he accompanies me, so anything is possible. But I fear for the future; I do trust Mithrandir, but he's told me something disturbing, something I can't discuss in a letter. All I can tell you is that if all comes to pass as he says, my strength will be sorely tested. I hope I can live up to your faith in me.  
  
I knew you could be a diplomat (you certainly have enough practice putting up with situations you find awkward and unpleasant). I never thought you'd seek out a position like that, though. You surprise me sometimes, and each surprise makes me love you all the more. I thank the Valar every day that you love me as much as I love you.  
  
I hold on to the hope that we will be together soon. We must have patience, as Mithrandir says, and I thank him for not sending you to me at this time because this is not a place I would have you come. When we reunite, I want us to have a lot of time together, to make up for all the years of waiting. I hope those years come to an end soon. Until then, remember that you are the reason I can still smile.  
  
Aragorn_

To Be Continued...

A/N: I usually like posting three chapters a week, and that's why I'm posting two chapters now (although, to be honest, I'd planned on posting this one with another anyway, since it's on the shorter side). My sister is getting married this weekend, and as the maid of honor, it would probably be a good idea if I attended. This means a four or five hour journey to her house, a house with no internet connection since she's a bit of a technophobe. On the plus side, when this is finally over with, it'll be one less thing to drive me crazy and I can concentrate more on my writing.


	9. The coming darkness

_Disclaimer: As I'm now getting into more familiar territory, let me again say that I own nothing, nor am I making any money off of this. Most of it belongs to Tolkien's estate and some belongs to Peter Jackson et al._

The elves of Mirkwood seemed to be in a state of panic. Soldiers and guards were running everywhere. Galion, the king's butler, burst into Thranduil's office, yelling that the king's presence was needed outside. A worried Legolas followed his father out of the cavern palace and was surprised to see Mithrandir standing in the middle of all the bustle. "Mithrandir!" Legolas called out, hoping against hope that he'd brought word from Aragorn. It had been five years since their last meeting and a little over a year since the last letter; he was anxious for any news about his love.  
  
Legolas ran past his father, intent on getting to the wizard. Thranduil, however, gasped in horror and grabbed his son's arms, pulling him back. Legolas struggled against the restraint. "What -" he started to demand; then he saw the source of all the turmoil. There was some kind of creature with Mithrandir, bound with ropes and looking none too happy. He'd never seen anything like it! It was withered and green, crouched on all fours on the ground. It was too small to be an elf or a man, and not hairy enough to be a dwarf. Perhaps it bore a passing resemblance to a hobbit, but it certainly not like that Bilbo Baggins that Thranduil was so fond of. The only word that there was to describe it was _wretched_.  
  
The creature spat and hissed, bearing its gleaming fangs. "Cruel hunters, wicked elveses!" it croaked out. Its eyes turned to where Thranduil and Legolas stood. "_Nassssty_ elves. Bright elves with bright eyes! They tries to burns ussss, they do, tries to hurt us with their eyes. Oh, yes my preciousss, they do. _Gollum, gollum_," it concluded with a hacking cough.  
  
"Greeting King Thranduil, Prince Legolas," said Mithrandir, acting as if he traveled with twisted creatures like this all the time. "This is Gollum."  
  
The king grimaced. "It certainly is," he replied. "What is it doing here?"  
  
"He needs a place to stay," said Mithrandir. "A safe place to stay, I man. It would be a shame if something was to happen to him after Strider here and I spent so much time catching him." He gestured to the side, where a figure was standing in the shadows. Legolas berated himself for not noticing him before, but the Gollum creature had been a bit of a shock and he wasn't expecting to see anyone else. This was a man, dressed as a ranger of the north. His face was obscured by a hood, but the gleam in his eyes was still visible.  
  
"I must speak with you," Mithrandir told Thranduil. "It concerns matters of the utmost importance. I urge you not to make any decisions about allowing Gollum to stay until after you hear all the information I have to give you."  
  
"All right," Thranduil conceded reluctantly. "But what will you do with that creature? It is not coming into my palace."  
  
"Of course he isn't," agreed Mithrandir. "Strider will watch him while we talk." The hooded man nodded and took the lead rope from him.  
  
Thranduil still looked ill at ease. "Let's talk quickly," he said. "Perhaps you should come inside too, Legolas."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I think I'll stay here for awhile," he responded. His father frowned at him. That frown used to cowl him as a child, but now all Legolas did was frown back. Thranduil let out a long-suffering sigh. "Don't get too close to _that_," he ordered, and then left with Mithrandir.  
  
The prince turned to the man. "Greetings," he said. "Strider, is it?"  
  
"Yes, sire," answered the hooded ranger.  
  
"Wicked cruel men!" hissed Gollum. "Hurts us, he did, didn't he precious? Threatens us with nasty sword, oh yes my _preciousss_!"  
  
Legolas raised his eyebrows in question. "He bit me," Strider confessed. "I had to be a little rough with him to get his teeth out of my skin. I'm afraid now he'll never love me."  
  
"Poor man," said Legolas, now smiling. "Would it make you feel any better to know that I love you?"  
  
Both laughed as Legolas pulled back the hood, revealing Aragorn's face. He was a little older and his face more lined with age, weather, and worry, but it was still the face of the man he loved. "I thought I had you fooled," said Aragorn.  
  
Legolas gave him a soft, swift kiss. "It would take a lot more than a hood for me not to recognize you," he told him.  
  
"I missed you," murmured Aragorn, capturing Legolas' lips for another, harder kiss.  
  
They broke apart at the sound of Gollum's voice. "The cruel man's got a precious too, oh yes," Gollum croaked. "But nasty elves with bright, terrible eyes, not as pretty as my precious. No it isn't, _gollum, gollum_." He reached out to paw at Legolas' leg; Aragorn pushed him back with his foot and shook the ropes in warning.  
  
Legolas gave the creature a disgusted look. "What's this 'precious' he keeps talking about?"  
  
Aragorn looked around and leaned in close. "It's a ring," he explained in a low voice. "A ring of power."  
  
"But the only ring of power not accounted for is - oh!" Legolas clapped his hand over his mouth in shock.  
  
"Gollum had it for 500 years before losing it," continued Aragorn.  
  
"Not lost, precious!" shrieked Gollum. "It stole it from us, the nasty thief. We hates it! _We hates nasty thief Baggins forever!"_  
  
"Baggins?" Legolas asked, incredulous. "Does he mean that hobbit Bilbo Baggins?"  
  
"He found it," Aragorn affirmed, "during his travels with the dwarves."  
  
"Not found, stolen! What has it gots in its pocketess?! Not a fair question!"  
  
"The one ring was here?" asked a horrified Legolas, ignoring Gollum's indignant rants. "In Mirkwood? Did Bilbo know what it is? Does he still have it?"  
  
Before Aragorn could answer, Mithrandir and Thranduil returned. The king's face was white as he ordered the guards to take Gollum to a cell. "You can only have a moment for goodbyes," Mithrandir told them. "Time is something we have little of right now." With that, he left to get their horses.  
  
"Goodbye?" asked Legolas.  
  
"Mithrandir and I have to leave at once," Aragorn said. "I have to go to Rivendell and he as to go to the Shire before we meet again. Ada has to be told of the situation and the hobbit who currently has the ring has no idea what it is. Hopefully I'll meet the two of them in Bree before Sauron gets desperate enough to send out the Nazgul."  
  
"You may have to face down the Nine?" asked Legolas as Mithrandir came back, riding one horse while leading another.  
  
Aragorn kissed him and mounted the horse. "I love you," he said, looking into Legolas' eyes. "Never forget how much I love you." With that, he rode off.  
  
A hand touched Legolas' face. He turned to see his father looking at him with concern. "I'm all right, Ada," assured the prince. "He will be all right as well. The Valar will protect him," he added with naive confidence. "They know how much I love him."  
  
_########################  
_  
A few weeks later, Legolas awoke to the sounds of yelling, screaming, and - Ai, Elbereth! - something that sounded like orc screeches. He flew out of bed, grabbed his quiver and bow, and ran out of his chamber door. He hadn't even reached the stairs when his father grabbed him. "You're not going out there," Thranduil told him. "Go back to your room and lock the door until whatever is going on is under control."  
  
"But Ada!"  
  
"Little Greenleaf!" Thranduil cried frantically. "I have to go out there and see what's going on. I don't want to have to command in a crisis and worry about you at the same time. Please do as I say!"  
  
Legolas hurried back to his chambers and locked the outer door. He listened there, and when he heard his father's footsteps descending the stairs he unlocked the door and threw it open. He ran to the top of the stairs, but couldn't see anything that would clue him in on what was happening and the two guards standing at the foot of the staircase made it impossible for him to sneak down. Legolas ran back to his chambers and looked out the windows, but he couldn't see anything from there either. He sighed and flopped down on a chair, resigning himself to wait.  
  
A long time passed before Thranduil returned to Legolas' chambers. The king wrapped Legolas in a crushing embrace without saying a word, not even about the unlocked door. "Ada, what happened?" he asked, concerned.  
  
"Gollum escaped," Thranduil answered. "Orcs came into the realm to help him."  
  
"Was anyone hurt?"  
  
"Yes," Thranduil said, kissing his son's brow. "But don't think about that right now."  
  
Legolas looked at him sadly. "Mithrandir will have to know," he said.  
  
"No one knows where Mithrandir is or how to find him," replied the king.  
  
"I could go to Rivendell," Legolas volunteered. "Lord Elrond can usually track him down."  
  
"Someone should go to Rivendell," said Thranduil tensely, "but it won't be you. The road is much too dangerous."  
  
"Ada," Legolas reasoned, "this news can't come from just any messenger. It concerns the one ring. Aragorn told me," he added quickly when his father gave him a surprised look. "It needs to come personally from the royal family, and you have to set everything in order here. That leaves me."  
  
Thranduil couldn't argue with that logic no matter how much he wanted to. "How soon can you be ready?" he asked.  
  
Legolas looked determined. "I'll be ready to go by midday," he vowed.  
  
To be continued...


	10. The beginning

Legolas rode into Rivendell and gracefully dismounted his horse. He looked around, allowing the memories of his last visit to come flowing back. Only 77 years had passed and everything looked the same, and yet everything had changed. Gone were the carefree days of pulling pranks with the twins. The little boy who followed him wherever he went had grown up into the man he loved. And now, Legolas came here not for fun and relaxation, but to deliver a solemn and urgent message.  
  
His eyes finally rested on Elrohir and Elladan. They were standing several feet away from him, formally greeting a group of men from Gondor, but the look of their clothing. Legolas caught Elrohir's eye, who grinned and nudged his twin brother. Once Elladan saw who arrived, they hastily excused themselves to the men's leader, a sandy-haired Gondorian, and made their way over to their friend.  
  
Not bothering with the formalities, the three embraced. "Legolas, thank the Valar you are here," declared Elrohir.  
  
A chill went through Legolas' body. "What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed. "Has something happened to Aragorn?"  
  
"_Everything_ happened to Estel!" cried Elladan. "Mithrandir didn't meet him in Bree like they planned, so he had to lead four hobbits through the wild himself. They were attacked on Weathertop by Nazgul! Hobbits can't do battle with those things, so he had to fight them off all alone. On top of everything else, the hobbit with the ring -"  
  
"Elladan, calm yourself," said Elrohir in a hissing whisper. "You're blurting things that shouldn't be blurted."  
  
Elladan took a deep breath. "The hobbit was stabbed by a Morgul blade and they had to get here as fast as they could," he continued. "The Nine were on their trail the whole way. By the time Glorfindel finally caught up with them, Nazgul were about to close in."  
  
"Is he hurt?" demanded Legolas.  
  
"No," Elrohir assured him. "They all arrived a few days ago, more or less all right. Even the hurt hobbit, Frodo Baggins, recovered. Or, at least, is recovering nicely."  
  
"Don't scare me like that!" breathed Legolas, immensely relieved. "From the way Elladan was carrying on, I was afraid that Aragorn was near death."  
  
"He could have been," Elladan piped in darkly. "I can't believe this is happening. One minute ago he was an irritating little boy who tortured us with toilet training and never left you alone. Now he's fighting Nazgul. Why was I always so annoyed with him when he was a child? I would do anything, give anything, and promise anything if he could just be like that again."  
  
"I know, dear brother," said Elrohir, putting his arm around his twin. "I know."  
  
"Where is he?" asked Legolas, desperate to see Aragorn with his own eyes.  
  
"He's in the house," responded Elrohir. "In that room where Ada keeps all the things pertaining to the Last Alliance."  
  
"Are you two really in love?" questioned Elladan. When Legolas nodded affirmatively, the dark-haired elf let out a weak laugh. "All this time, everyone's been trying to impress you with beautiful verses and flowery declarations. I'd like to see the looks on their faces when they find out all you wanted was a socially-awkward mortal with hair all over his face."  
  
_#######################  
_  
Legolas found Aragorn right where Elrohir said he'd be, stretched out on a bench with a book. "What are you reading?" he asked.  
  
Aragorn looked up, surprised. "Are you really here?" he gasped, pushing the book out of the way.  
  
Legolas grinned and sat next to him. "Well, perhaps you should touch me," he suggested teasingly. "Just to make sure I'm real."  
  
"That may take a lot of touching," warned Aragorn with mock-seriousness. He brushed the back of his hand against the elf's cheek. "Are you prepared to handle that kind of scrutiny?"  
  
"Oh, yes -"  
  
"Excuse me," a voice interrupted. Both turned to see the sandy-haired Gondorian standing by one of the murals. "I was just looking at everything that the Lord Elrond has collected over the years. I didn't mean to intrude." His eyes widened as he got a good look at them, and then narrowed. "You are no elf," he said to Aragorn, before turning to Legolas. "And you look like no elf of Rivendell."  
  
"All visitors are welcome here, not just the Men of the South," Aragorn informed him. "We are friends of Gandalf the Grey."  
  
The man looked a little defensive. "They we are here on common purpose, friends." His gaze turned to a statue that was holding a tray. On the tray were the broken pieces of a sword. "Are those the shards of Narsil?"  
  
"They are," replied Legolas.   
  
The man walked over and grasped the hilt. A look of wonder passed over his face. "This is the very blade that cut the ring from the enemy's hand," he whispered in awe. Suddenly remembering he wasn't alone, he glanced back at Legolas and Aragorn, who were still watching him. His expression turned blasé. "It is nothing but a broken heirloom of a forgotten time," he said gruffly, quickly putting the hilt back. It fell to the floor with a clang. The man hesitated for a moment, and then walked away.  
  
"What a rude, proud man," commented Legolas. Aragorn didn't respond; instead he got up and picked up the hilt. He held it in his hand, staring at it for a moment before carefully placing it with the other pieces. "Aragorn, what's troubling you?"  
  
"Isildur used that sword to cut the ring from Sauron's hand," said Aragorn. "And then he took the ring for his own."  
  
Passages from letters came to memory and understanding dawned on Legolas. "And now the ring has returned," he supplied. Aragorn didn't say anything, but the air around them was heavy with guilt and doubt. "You are not Isildur."  
  
Aragorn sat again, looking at him with anxious eyes. "I am of his house and his line," he murmured. "His blood runs through my veins. Why wouldn't his weakness be in me as well?"  
  
"You are not Isildur," Legolas insisted. "Don't confuse blood with destiny." He smiled a little. "Anyone with enough courage to face to my father has a great reserve of strength in him. That strength will help you face the same temptation and defeat it."  
  
The ranger reached out and fingered the chain around Legolas' neck before pulling it to reveal the silver ring. "I feel so old, so burdened," he said. "I wish I were still the young man who gave this to you."  
  
"You are older, perhaps," replied Legolas. "You have more cares and more worries now. But you're still the person I love."  
  
Aragorn leaned forward, closing the space between their lips. They kissed for a long while, forgetting for the moment all the troubles of the world.  
  
_#################  
_  
The next evening, Legolas sat on a bench in the small courtyard where Elrond held a council earlier that day. He sighed, contemplating all that had happened. Of all being and peoples, a hobbit was going to try to bear the one ring into the heart of Sauron's realm. _'A tall order,'_ he mused, _'even if your last name is Baggins.'_ Not only that, he himself would be going along to help in whatever way he could. The fellowship would be made up of Frodo, himself, Aragorn, three more hobbits, a dwarf that was ignorant that he actually thought the one ring could be destroyed with an axe, and the sandy-haired Gondorian, Boromir, who apparently thought his people mightiest and most worthy and himself wiser than a wizard or elf lord. He groaned; how could this journey be anything but a disaster?  
  
A hand came down on his shoulder. "What is on your mind, meleth?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"I was just wondering how we'll get to Mordor without killing each other," replied Legolas. "Especially since we can't get through one meeting without ended up in a yelling match."  
  
"We just need to remember what's important," said Aragorn. "And learn when to bite our tongues."  
  
Legolas flushed. "I'm sorry about blurting all of that to Boromir," he said. "I just couldn't stand his smugness for a moment longer. Does he really think Gondor is the only realm that's been fighting the forces of Mordor, that only his people have suffered and died? What makes him think that he's more capable of deciding the ring's fate than Mithrandir or Lord Elrond?"  
  
"I understand how you feel," soothed Aragorn. "Gimli son of Gloin almost got my sword shoved through his skull at one point. 'Never trust an elf,' indeed! Let's hope that the rest of him is as bold as his speech."  
  
"How are we going to get through this?" lamented Legolas, only half-joking.  
  
"By believing that Sauron will be destroyed," murmured Aragorn in response, planting a kiss on the elf's neck. Legolas' eyes fluttered shut and he leaned towards him. "Then Gondor can be renewed, and your father will have to escort you to me himself so we can get married. Once the ring is destroyed, most of the obstacles will be gone and we can be together."  
  
Legolas tilted his head back to kiss the underside of Aragorn's chin. "I wish we could be together now," he sighed.  
  
"Me too," said Aragorn. "But I want to prove to your father that I love you, and don't just want to bed the Sun Star for sport."  
  
"I can wait for such a noble reason," smiled Legolas. They remained there for a long time, hold each other in the starlight. "I will wait for you forever if need be."  
  
To Be Continued... 


	11. The calm before

_A/N: This chapter is a little boring, but it's necessary. Hang in there, please!_

The fellowship stopped for a rest and a quick meal by the shadows of the Misty Mountains. Legolas watched the others as they scattered about, intent on their own activities. Sam, who had swiftly become the company's unofficial chef, built a fire to cook the food All the while, the hobbit kept a close eye on Frodo, who was helping him with the kindling. Gimli sat a few feet away from them, smoking his pipe (the horrid smell of whatever was in that pipe just gave Legolas another reason to keep away from the dwarf). Boromir was telling Merry and Pippin a story about a battle at Osgiliath. Aragorn and Mithrandir looked like they were finishing up their discussion about the various paths the company could take. _'Good,'_ thought Legolas. He needed to talk to the ranger.  
  
He started to walk over to where Aragorn and the wizard stood, but was stopped in his tracks by the sound of Frodo softly. That tune sounded ... familiar. "Where did you learn that song, Frodo?" he asked. "It sounds like something I've heard before."  
  
"It's an elf song!" exclaimed Sam before Frodo could answer. He blushed when he realized his brashness. "Begging your pardon Mister Frodo, Mister Legolas. I was just so excited! You see, I love to hear tales and songs about elves and Mister Frodo was nice enough to an elf song for me."  
  
"It's a song that Bilbo learned in Mirkwood," piped in Frodo. "I don't doubt that you know it. He said that he heard it in the throne room, when the king held some kind of court. He told me that many elves came that day, singing about bright suns and blue seas and other such things."   
  
"Bilbo was there?" mused Legolas. "I wish I'd known that at the time. His presence might have made sitting on that stool a little more bearable."  
  
"It was you on that stool?" asked Frodo. "Then of course you know the song; it was written for you."  
  
"Yes," said Legolas thoughtfully. "I'm glad it can bring you two a little happiness and comfort."  
  
From his seat on the rock, Gimli snorted. "Sitting all day listening to songs," he muttered in a low voice that only Legolas' sharp ears could hear. "It would've been better for us if he'd spent his time fighting orcs rather instead of listening to elves fawn over him."  
  
Legolas stiffened and gritted his teeth. Aragorn, seeing the dwarf's lips move and the change in his lover's body language, hurried over. "Excuse us," he said to the two hobbits. "I need to talk to Legolas in private."  
  
"Of course," said Frodo, smiling at them before resuming his quiet singing.  
  
Aragorn led Legolas to a far corner of the campsite. "I didn't say anything," said Legolas defensively, talking to himself as well as Aragorn. "I could have said a few good things to him. Things that could have knocked the pipe right out of his mouth!"  
  
"Please don't do that," said Aragorn soothingly. "Don't let him get to you with some thoughtless comment. It's not worth tying yourself up in knots."  
  
"And I know it upsets the hobbits when we argue," said Legolas. He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. "He's not important, anyway. I was coming to talk to you."  
  
"You have my attention," Aragorn told him. "Did you have a particular topic in mind?"  
  
"I wanted to know on what roads the fellowship will be traveling," replied Legolas.  
  
"With any luck, we'll be able to stay on this path and cross the Misty Mountains in the South," said Aragorn. "That would be the easiest road, in any case. There are other ways, but not ones I would take willingly."  
  
Legolas felt his body go cold for a second. "What roads could put such uneasiness in your voice?" he wondered.  
  
"Caradhras, for one," answered Aragorn, his eyes darting to the snow-capped peaks in the distance. "I doubt the mountain would stay asleep if we were to try to take that pass. The name of Moria also came up."  
  
"Moria," Legolas murmured, searching his memory for the reason why that name sounded so familiar. His eyes widened as it came to him. "Moria! You were lucky you came away from that place unscathed! That way is actually an option for us now?"  
  
"All roads will have to be considered on this quest," said Aragorn. "The enemy and Saruman will do everything they can to hinder us. We have to be prepared to take whatever is left open to us."  
  
"But to go through Moria..." Legolas trailed off. "I knew we would be going to Mordor, but I never imagined all the evil places that we might have to go to in order to get there." He summon all of his boldness squared his shoulders. "I can handle it, though. I've killed orcs before, no matter what others may think, and an orc in Moria dies just like an orc in Mirkwood does."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Hopefully none of us will have to go there," he said. "Mithrandir won't take that road unless every other option has been exhausted, and so far all is quiet."  
  
"I almost wish it weren't so quiet," said Legolas. "There must have been some rumor of our coming by now. There are many forces out there, searching for the ring and for the company. I can almost feel them closing in around us. Sometimes waiting for something horrible to happen is just as unbearable as what happens when the waiting is over."  
  
"I was hoping," Aragorn joked gently, "that the Valar would give us safe passage so that I could spend the time enjoying your company." His face turned serious. "Do you realize that, aside from the time that you visited Rivendell, this is the longest time we've ever spent together?"  
  
"Yes," answered Legolas, a grin spreading on his face. "It's been extremely enjoyable being with you like this, even though we don't have enough time and privacy for - "he looked around and kissed Aragorn swiftly. "Ada thought our love would wither if we were ever able to spend an extended period of time together."  
  
"Mine hasn't," declared Aragorn. "Indeed, we were always together in some way over the years, even if the way was mostly with pieces of parchment. I must say, this flesh and blood togetherness is a nice change of pace."  
  
"I still love you," Legolas told him. "It's wonderful to actually see you in action. I just hope I can keep up with you when the fighting does start."  
  
"I don't see how you couldn't." They stood there for a long moment, looking into each other's eyes and just enjoying being able to be in one another's presence. It was a new feeling, one that they both wanted to explore more. Aragorn desperately wished they hadn't decided to keep their relationship a secret from the others, but as Mithrandir's second-in-command he needed for everyone to trust his judgment; some might not if they thought he was going to be partial to the elf.  
  
The clang of a sword made them both jump. Legolas looked around for the source of the sound, chuckling when he found it. "Do you see what I see?" he asked, gesturing with his head.  
  
"I see Boromir teaching Merry and Pippin some sword fighting techniques," laughed Aragorn. "He really has a soft spot for them, doesn't he?"  
  
"Indeed he does," agreed Legolas. "The rude and proud Gondorian bravado he has almost goes away when he's with them."  
  
"I'd better make sure that his soft spot doesn't result in any missing fingers or limbs," Aragorn said, fingering his pipe. "Care to join me?"  
  
"Not if you're going to be smoking that," Legolas answered, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"You don't love me when I smoke?" teased Aragorn.  
  
"I love you," Legolas assured him. "I just don't love the smell of burning pipe weed. Go enjoy yourself."  
  
Aragorn walked over and sat down to watch the sparring lesson. Legolas would have gone to speak with Mithrandir, but found him both smoking and speaking with Gimli. He turned his back to avoid any smoke coming his way and overheard snatches of their conversation. "We could go through the mines of Moria," the dwarf urged the wizard. "My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome."  
  
The elf rolled his eyes and silently thanked Mithrandir for rejecting the suggestion. Only a dwarf would rather walk in the dark under the earth when the free air and sun were still available! Deciding to rejoin Frodo and Sam, he turned around and saw it: there was something moving across the sky straight towards them. Staring out with apprehension, not hearing the questions and comments of the others, Legolas could finally make out what was coming. "Crebain from Dunland!" he called out.  
  
"Hide!" ordered Aragorn, though there was no need to. Everyone was already scurrying under boulders and brush, trying to stay out of the sight of the ominous birds. As he flattened himself under a bush and peeked out between its bare branches, Legolas thought about his wish. The wait was over and for better or worse the perilous part of their journey had begun.

_A/N: I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all who are reading and enjoying my story, especially those of you who review. I really appreciate it!_


	12. Entering the darkness

How had the journey gone so bad so quickly? Aragorn struggled to answer that question as the darkness loomed closer and closer around them. If he was honest with himself, he'd have to say that the fellowship had been walking straight into possible destruction ever since they left Rivendell. However, the first part of their journey had almost felt like leisurely travel, one where they would stop along the way for smoking, cooking, and interacting surprisingly well with each other (well, except for Legolas and Gimli who mostly kept their hostilities in check). Then the crebain came, forcing them to attempt the pass of Caradhras. Bitter snow and an avalanche turned them from that path. Now they were looking for the doors of Moria, a place Aragorn had been to once and wished never to go again. The quest could be boiled down in a couple of cliches: can't go forward, can't go back; stuck between a rock and a hard place.  
  
Only one member of their party was happy about their current road: Gimli. He insisted that the welcome and shelter the company would receive in Khazad-dum would even surpass that of Rivendell. Now he was walking with Mithrandir, assisting him in locating the doors. "Dwarf doors are invisible when shut," he was explaining loudly.  
  
"Yes Gimli," said Mithrandir. "Even their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."  
  
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" groaned Legolas. Gimli paused and let out an annoyed grunt, but didn't say anything.  
  
Aragorn quickly fell in step with the elf. "You've been doing so well," he said in a low voice. "Don't start bickering with him now. Remember, don't let him get to you."  
  
"We're walking into a dark hole that even you and Mithrandir fear to go to," replied Legolas testily. "Once we're down there, we won't have access to water or food. There will be no place to go for cover or to flee if need be. That dwarf -"  
  
"Gimli."  
  
" - is acting like he's about to show us the most glorious place on earth," he continued. "You're lucky I'm restraining myself as much as I am." His voice faltered. "There will be no sun, no moon, and no stars down there. No trees. Nothing that lives or grows..."  
  
"We'll get through there," Aragorn promised, slipping his hand into Legolas' and squeezing. "Just keep in mind that on the other side of this mine is Lothlorien. We'll be able to stay in the Golden Woods for a little while. We might even have time to slip off and be alone."  
  
Legolas smiled at him now. "What a novel idea," he murmured suggestively. "What ever would we do to occupy ourselves?"  
  
Aragorn's response was silenced when a glimmer shone from the walls of Moria. In front of them, reflected in the moonlight, were the outlines of a gate. They'd found the door to Moria.  
  
_##################  
_  
Legolas stood by the only tree in the entire landscape, listening to Mithrandir's frustrated attempts to guess the right password. He half-hoped the correct words would never come to the wizard and they wouldn't have to go into that lifeless, lightless, barren place. _'What then?'_ asked the treacherous voice inside his mind. _'How will the company move forward then? Can you endure no hardship, no difficult journey, even if things are better off in the future because of it? Are you that faithless?'  
_  
He chose to ignore that argumentative internal voice, instead focusing on Aragorn. He was standing by the dank pool of water, scolding Pippin about throwing stones. The ranger was kingly and authoritative; anyone would have to be senseless not to see that. _'I can't believe how much he's grown,'_ he thought wistfully but proudly. _'And not just in years. I'm truly the luckiest being in the lands.'  
_  
"It's a riddle," announced Frodo, interrupting Legolas' silent musings. "What's the elvish word for 'friend'?"  
  
"Mellon." With Mithrandir's word, the gates swung open. It felt odd to Legolas that an elvish word could open the way to a dark, dwarvish place. "Why was an elvish word used for the password?" he whispered to Mithrandir as they walked slowly through the gate.  
  
"The elves of this land and the dwarves of this mine used to be on very good terms," Mithrandir answered in a low voice. "Things weren't always the way they are now."  
  
"Those were simpler times," responded Legolas. He was surprised to hear that a tiny bit of regret was in his voice.  
  
Cautiously, the fellowship entered the gateway. Any regret Legolas was feeling turned quickly into annoyance when Gimli strolled up next to him. "Soon, master elf," the dwarf bragged, "you'll enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves." Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat right off the bone! This is the home of my cousin Balin, and they call it a mine. A mine!"  
  
Mithrandir lit the end off this staff, illuminating the entrance to the mine - and the dead bodies that were littered there. "No!" roared Gimli. "No! NOOOO!"  
  
Legolas was horrified himself. There were so many of them, still in chain mail and clutching their axes. It was like they were doomed to an eternity of fighting. The smell of death was choking him. The sight of rotting but still recognizable corpses, the smell of decomposition, everything was overwhelming the young elf's senses. He walked to the nearest body and pulled an arrow from its chest. "Goblins," he spat out in disgust, though that wasn't news to anyone there. He drew his bow and edged towards the door, not caring if an entire orc army was waiting on the outside. He'd shoot his way through a million of them if he had to - there was no way he could let the fellowship go through there!  
  
"Strider!" Sam's desperate, terrified voice screamed out from behind. Everyone turned to see the three other hobbits trying to pull Frodo back as a huge tentacle jutting out from the dark water outside pulled him from the doorway. Aragorn and Boromir lunged forward, slashing at that tentacle and all the others with their drawn swords. Legolas fired his bow, one arrow after another; all of their efforts, however, were proving futile. _'I've shot it so many times!'_ Legolas thought. _'The men aren't pulling any strokes either. How can it not be dying? Why isn't it letting Frodo go?'  
_  
Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, Aragorn managed to inflict enough of a hurt to the creature for it to release Frodo. Boromir caught him and the three ran to where the rest of the fellowship was standing. "Legolas!" Boromir screamed. Horrified at the sight of the beast coming again, Legolas fired, hitting it in what should be his head. It was only still just wounded; they had barely enough time to make it back into the mine before it smashed the entrance. Legolas grabbed Aragorn's shoulder, assuring himself that his lover was all right - for now, at least - as whatever light outside was blocked and they were entombed inside.  
  
Aragorn put his hand over the one on his shoulder, trying to offer comfort. Legolas tried to stop the small tremors going through his body but he couldn't. A fear that he'd never known before was upon him. They were trapped beneath the earth, in a place where bodies killed by goblins still laid undisturbed. There was no sign of goblin bodies in the death that surrounded them. And now the only way out was to go forward.  
  
_###############_  
  
When their legs couldn't carry them anymore and their weariness couldn't be ignored, the fellowship halted for a rest. They stretched out on the cold, hard floor in the dark, trying to put aside their fear and unease for just awhile so sleep could take them. Legolas was lying on his side when he felt a body spoon up to his back and an arm slip around his waist. "Can it tell you a secret?" Aragorn whispered in his ear.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I actually planned this," he joked gently. "I just wanted an excuse to get some time with you in the dark."  
  
Legolas let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "Well, it worked," he jested weakly, rolling to face Aragorn in the pitch-black. "Though I would have preferred a different location." Aragorn's arm tightened around him. "I hate this," he continued. "I've never been in a situation like this before. Danger is all around us and even my arrows and your sword can't stop it. The only way out is to walk further and further into peril. How can we survive if my arrows don't work down here?"  
  
"I don't think anything could have killed that Watcher," Aragorn told him. "And I've been in many situations like this, feeling like a deer walking through a valley overlooked by uncountable hidden hunters. I know it feels like we'll never make it through, but I have before and we will now."  
  
"You amaze me, Aragorn," murmured Legolas. "How can you have become so strong and grown-up in such a short amount of time?"  
  
Warm lips touched his. "Necessity," Aragorn murmured against his mouth. "Men have to grow up in a short amount of time because our time on this earth is short, at least compared to that of elves."  
  
A shudder of even deeper fears ran through the elf. "Don't talk about such dark things right now," he said. "Tell me instead how you survived these situations without losing your sanity."  
  
Aragorn kissed him again. Legolas reached out and pulled him closer until their bodies were wholly pressed against each other. "You," breathed Aragorn. "You are the reason I survived then and will survive now."  
  
Legolas rolled over, on top of Aragorn. Sighs, whispers, and needful whimpers escaped their lips as the lovers made up for lost time. Embedding his fingers into the man's hair, Legolas decided he was going to walk bravely forward, through Moria and anything else that stood between them and a renewed Gondor and Arnor. All he had to do was remember that every step they took was a step closer to his future with Aragorn; to get to that he was willing to endure anything.  
  
To be continued... 


	13. The harshness of reality

"Behold," announced Mithrandir, holding his lighted staff aloft. "This is the realm of the great dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."  
  
The worn faces of the fellowship looked up, gazing at the stone columns in wonder. "That's an eye-opener, ain't no mistake," murmured an awed Sam. Legolas was surprised to find himself inwardly agreeing. The stone didn't have the beauty of anything living and green, but there was an undeniable majesty and grandeur in those massive columns. Anything awe-inspiring was a welcome sight after days of trudging through the darkness, and Dwarrowdelf was certainly that. Of course, his mood had improved greatly since that first night, taking inspiration from the hobbits' naive bravery and Aragorn's stoic command. That, on top of the stolen moments he shared with his lover, made the trip through Moria bearable, even if he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being hunted.  
  
Suddenly Gimli cried out and ran off to the side, ignoring Mithrandir's call. Everyone followed him into a room. It was littered with more dead bodies, even more than what had been at the entrance. Legolas and Aragorn stood together as the wizard read the inscription on the tomb: "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin and lord of Moria." Gimli sobbed at his words. This was unleashed grief, Legolas realized. It wasn't the checked grief of his father and his people at a court funeral; it was unchecked, powerful, and raw. It was the pain of someone who unexpectedly lost one he loved greatly. Emotion washed through him - pity (for a dwarf!), confusion, and an uncomfortable feeling that he couldn't quite identify in the pit of his stomach - that he struggled to keep in check.  
  
Mithrandir picked up a book and started to read aloud what sounded like a first-hand account of the demise of the dwarves in the mines. Legolas listened, feeling like he couldn't take anymore. The smell of rot and death was in the air, dead bodies were all around, and Gimli's grief was stirring something inside him that he didn't understand or know how to deal with. On top of everything else, he could feel something was about to happen. He knew that the hunter-and-prey tension between them and their unseen foes was coming to a head. "We must move on," he whispered desperately to Aragorn. "We cannot linger."  
  
Aragorn nodded, partly because he agreed and partly to soothe, trying to rid his lover's voice of it panicked undertones. He silently berated Thranduil, for sheltering his son so much, and himself, for being the reason the elf came on the journey in the first place. The mines of Moria were not the place for anyone's first quest away from home! He knew he should advise Mithrandir that they needed to move on, but found he couldn't deny Gimli the knowledge of what had happened to his kin.  
  
"They are coming," Mithrandir concluded, raising his eyes to exchange a glace with Aragorn. Whatever he was trying to convey was cut off by a loud crash, followed by even louder crashes. Aragorn stiffened and Legolas sucked in some air, fearing the worst before they realized that Pippin had accidentally knocked a corpse down a nearby well. "Poor Pippin," thought Aragorn, although the hobbit deserved Mithrandir's scolding. His characteristic curiosity was amusing only when they weren't in so much danger.  
  
Legolas let out a breath. The tension would have disappeared a little if the pounding hadn't started. 'Drums, drums in the deep'; those were the words in the log of the dwarves. Now it was painfully clear what it meant. "Orc!" he cried.  
  
Boromir ran to the door to see what was coming their way. His bravery was rewarded by two arrows that barely missed his skull. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Aragorn had to repress a chuckle at the annoyed sneer and eye roll that Boromir gave them. "They have a cave troll," he said in an exasperated tone as he and Aragorn pulled the doors shut. Securing the lock, they ran back to form a line of defense with Legolas.   
  
"Stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn ordered the hobbits.   
  
Legolas felt the dueling emotions of apprehension and relief; they were under attack, but at least the tension of the last few days was almost over with. He was in familiar territory now: shooting orcs with amazing accuracy. Aiming carefully, he took out an orc trying to break the lock, and then another. The elf's confidence was faltering was the volume of the screeches increased. There were so many of them! How were they - how was he - supposed to kill them all?  
  
The doors crashed opened and the onslaught of orcs was immediately overshadowed by the presence of the cave troll. Legolas fired, hitting the creature in the shoulder, but it didn't cowl. The only thing the arrows seemed to do was increase the troll's rage. He watched, feeling horrified and guilty as the troll sought to take out its fury on poor Sam, who barely escaped the slam of the club. The troll then moved to make a swing at Gimli, who was distracted by the orcs and didn't even see the elf save his hide with more arrows. 'Great,' thought Legolas. 'Not only am I shooting at a troll with a thick hide, but I'm also saving a dwarf.' At least the troll turned its rage on him now instead of his innocent companions. He ran, trying to draw it away from the rest of the company, while it swung chains at him. Legolas managed to climb one that got wrapped around a stone and shot it in the head. Still it would not go down!  
  
In the meantime, Aragorn had his hands full. First he had to save Boromir from an orc attack; the Gondorian looked stunned that he owed his life to a "mere ranger." Then he could do nothing but watch in terror as the cave troll attacked his love. Despite the fear and confusion he knew the elf felt, Legolas more than rose to the occasion and got in a good shot before getting out of the troll's line of fire. Where would its fury be turned to next?  
  
His question was answered almost immediately. "Aragorn!" cried Frodo. Aragorn stared in shock for a moment as the troll persistently pursued the ring bearer. "Frodo!" he roared, rushing to the hobbit's aid.  
  
The troll saw him coming as swung his large club. Aragorn flew through the air before landing in a small opening, completely unconscious. The world moved in slow motion for Legolas as he watched first Aragorn fall, then the troll continue to chase Frodo, and finally seeing that accursed creature drive a spear into the hobbit's side. Merry and Pippin screamed in rage and dove onto its back, stabbing its shoulders with their small swords. Fear left Legolas, being replaced by a concentrated feeling of reckless courage. 'I don't care if it does flatten me,' he thought, standing his ground and aiming as the troll came closer and closer. 'It's going to die even if I have to tear its head off with my bare hands!' It didn't come to that, thankfully; one well-aimed shot into the troll's mouth ended its attack.  
  
He rushed to Aragorn's side. The man was stirring, struggling to get up. "Legolas?" Aragorn whispered weakly. Legolas nodded and helped him rise to his feet. "Where's -" the man started to ask. His eyes fell on Frodo sprawled on the ground. "Oh, no."  
  
Aragorn went over to him and the entire company got a huge shock: Frodo picked himself up off of the ground. "A mithril shirt," murmured Legolas to himself. "The Valar are certainly watching us today." A thud came from the corridor outside and Mithrandir ordered, "To the bridge of Khazad-dum."  
  
The fellowship ran from the small room, following Mithrandir as a seemingly endless swarm of orcs surrounded them. There was nothing for them to do but try to fight their way out. They all readied their weapons, but then the sound of heavy footfalls made fellowship and orc alike turn to find its source. The orcs screeched in terror, fleeing before this unidentified foe. 'This isn't a good thing' was the general thought of the company.  
  
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir demanded.  
  
Mithrandir closed his eyes. "A balrog," he answered. Legolas' eyes widened. A balrog was a demon of long ago, the subject of children's nightmares not of real life. One of these monsters was coming towards them now? He froze in fear and stared in the direction of the sound. He didn't hear Mithrandir's order to run. Had Aragorn not grabbed his arm and pulled him along, he wouldn't have moved at all.  
  
It was a living nightmare. They were being pursued by a balrog down a stairway that had sudden ends and deep drops, as they all learned when Boromir almost fell. Had it not been for Legolas' elven reflexes he would have tumbled to the roots of the mountain. "Lead them on, Aragorn," Mithrandir ordered sharply, but that was easier said then done. The stairway to the bridge had a large break in it. Legolas jumped it easily, as did Mithrandir. Boromir made it with some effort, carrying Merry and Pippin over with him. Aragorn grabbed Sam and tossed him like a sack of potatoes. "Nobody tosses a dwarf," protested Gimli proudly when the man reached out to grab him. The dwarf jumped, and Legolas got the fleeting childish thrill of pulling his beard as he pulled him to safety.  
  
Gimli's jump had broken off even more of the stairs and now Aragorn and Frodo were trapped on the wrong side of a distance that was too great to jump or be tossed. 'When will this be over?' thought Legolas desperately. 'Please, Elbereth or Eru or whoever is listening, let them come over safely and get us out of this horrible place!' A rock fell, pushing the two even farther back. The foundation under the stair portion creaked and started to sway and Legolas never felt more useless and scared in his life. Aragorn, however, kept his head and shifted his weight, ordering Frodo to do the same. They managed to manipulate it in the direction of the rest of the company, and Aragorn was soon in the safety of Legolas' arms. They allowed themselves a brief embrace before joining the others to flee over the bridge.  
  
All save Mithrandir were on the other side, only a few feet from the way out, when the balrog caught up with them. The wizard turned halfway across. "You cannot pass," he declared menacingly.   
  
"Gandalf!" shrieked Frodo.  
  
"I am servant of the secret fire," Mithrandir continued. "Wielder of the flame of Arnor. The dark power will not avail you, flame of Udun!" The balrog cracked his fiery whip, but the wizard deflected it. "Go back to the shadows," he snarled, and then yelled with all of the power he had in him: "You shall not pass!" as he brought down his staff and shattered the bridge.  
  
His triumph was short-lived. The falling balrog snapped his whip up from the chasm, twisting it around Mithrandir's ankles. He only held on long enough to admonish, "Fly, you fools!" before he fell out of sight. Aragorn stared in dismay as his dear friend fell, only running when orc arrows starting flying at him.  
  
Outside the mines, Legolas stood in a confused stupor and didn't even heed the feeling of the free air on his face. 'Mithrandir was important,' he thought dully. 'The Valar know this. They know that I love him, that he is like kin to me. He can't be dead.' But Mithrandir didn't emerge from the caves. Legolas' body obeyed Aragorn's command to rally the fellowship so they could reach Lothlorien before the orc pursuit began, but his mind was still reeling. Mithrandir was dead. The Valar would let someone he loved and needed die. That revelation scared him more than anything else that had happened that day.  
  
To be continued... 


	14. Amends

"Gandalf the Grey cannot pass these borders," said Galadriel, studying the minds of each member of the fellowship that stood before her in Lothlorien. "He has fallen into shadow."  
  
The others looked down, avoiding her penetrating gaze, but Legolas met it head-on. "He was taken by both shadow and flame," he reported, his distress showing more with every word. "By a balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." The shoulders of Gimli, who stood in front of him, sagged but Legolas was determined to ignore any guilt he might have about hurting the dwarf's feelings. Not only had Gimli been excited about going to the place that eventually caused Mithrandir's death, he'd also robbed Legolas of whatever solace he could have found in seeing many of Lothlorien's trees by refusing to be blindfolded.

That wasn't even the worst of part of it. Aragorn - Aragorn, instead of insisting that the stubborn dwarf follow the laws of the land, actually appeased him by having all of them blindfolded. Legolas bristled at the memory. How could Aragorn mistreat and betray him like that? So instead of being able to see the Golden Woods that he'd heard songs and tales about since he was a child, he had to walk blindly though while the contrary voice in his head gave him uncomfortable thoughts about Gimli and Aragorn not being as wrong as his wounded pride would have him believe.  
  
_"Do not be unfair in your judgments, Little Greenleaf,"_ Galadriel's voice sounded in his head._ "Do not hinder maturity by clinging to childish grudges and selfish desires. You know in your soul that Aragorn loves you. You also know that he has an entire company to lead now, a company that has suffered a terrible loss, and he has to do what is right by all of them. You know what you have to do now and though you do not want to do it, it might be the best thing you've ever done."_ She moved on to the others, leaving Legolas alone with his thoughts and feelings.  
  
_###############_  
  
Legolas smiled wistfully at Sam's attempt to eulogize Mithrandir with a poem about his fireworks. It reminded him of a time not long ago - and yet so far away - when a ten-year-old boy tried to commit his own deep emotions to verse. He sat down in the spot that Aragorn had just vacated and watched him approach a troubled-looking Boromir. _'Boromir's been so disdainful towards him, but he still goes to comfort him,'_ observed Legolas. _'He's such a good man, and a good leader too. He's got a very burden made heavier now and it's not being made easier to bear by the selfish behavior of someone he loves_.'  
  
A snort and a sputter pulled him out of his thoughts. Beside him, Gimli sat up and glared. "Did you just smack me?" the dwarf demanded.  
  
"That was Aragorn," Legolas told him. "You were snoring through Sam's lament."  
  
Gimli let out a ha-rumph. "I don't snore," he said.  
  
"I'm sorry," Legolas blurted out. Gimli looked at him in shock and the elf continued hurriedly: "Not about saying that you were snoring, because you were. I'm sorry because of earlier. You weren't blindfolded because you're a stranger to the land, or because you'd done something to deserve it; it was because you're a dwarf and you have every right to be upset about that. And I'm sorry for what I said to Galadriel and Celeborn. You're not to blame for - for what happened to Mithrandir and trying to make you feel that way was just cruel. I just feel so out-of-control and useless, but that's no excuse. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I am sorry."  
  
Gimli stared at him for a full minute before responding. Legolas could almost hear him thinking. "I suppose," Gimli finally said in a slow voice, "that if we had come to a Moria that was controlled by dwarves, they'd have insisted on blindfolding only you just for being an elf and we'd be in a similar situation. I would have certainly resented having to walk through Dwarrowdelf blindly. I guess I would have said some thoughtless things too."  
  
"I hated it," said Legolas. "I hated being treated like a criminal or servant of the enemy by my own people. I hated being treated like a dwarf by my own people, but the blame should have been put on the laws of my people and not the innocent dwarf."  
  
"There's a lot of bad blood between our peoples," noted Gimli.  
  
"I don't hate you though," replied Legolas. "I don't even know you. I suppose all elves have preconceived notions about dwarves, and those were encouraged as I grew up. I've never actually seen a dwarf up close, or been in a situation where I could meet one. This is the first time I've left the shelter of both my father and Rivendell, where Lord Elrond sheltered me." He looked Gimli in the eye. "There may be bad blood between our kindred, even between our fathers, but there's no reason why it should be between us. I'd like the chance to get to know you."  
  
"That can be arranged," Gimli told him, his voice low and hoarse. "I've never had the opportunity to get to know a wood elf before either. This will be an odd friendship, to say the least."

They said in silence for a moment before Gimli spoke up. "Maybe, by the leave of the Lady, tomorrow you can see some of what you were forced to miss," he suggested. "You and Aragorn can have some time alone."  
  
"You know about us?"  
  
"Everyone undoubtedly knows," said Gimli. "Ever a whisper echoes as loudly as a shout in Moria. Goodnight, laddie."   
  
Legolas scowled and blushed at the same time. "I'm older than you!" he protested.  
  
Gimli looked at him as if he'd never seen him before. "Only in years, laddie," he said. With that, he rolled over and fell asleep.

_'My father would have much to say indeed if he could see me now,'_ mused Legolas, staring at the dwarf, almost in shock about the conversation they'd just had. He felt strangly light-of-spirit. _'But this is a good thing, something that make the situation a little easier on the entire company.'_

Arms wrapped around Legolas, startling him out of his revelry. He turned in them and came face-to-face with a smiling Aragorn. "Let's take his advice and go on a walk tomorrow," the man whispered. He kissed Legolas' lips gently and they fell asleep in each other's arms.  
  
_##################  
_  
Lothlorien was perfect in Legolas' eyes. He gazed at the golden trees, elanor flowers, and the living green of the shrubbery as he and Aragorn strolled down a quiet path. This place was truly deserving of the title of "Home of Elvendom on Earth." When they were far enough away from the fellowship's camp, Aragorn kissed Legolas, passionate and deep. "Thank you," he murmured.  
  
"Thank you for what?" asked Legolas.  
  
"For saying what you did to Gimli," responded Aragorn. "I know it wasn't easy for you to apologize to him, and it was probably even harder to get past everything your father taught you about the nature of dwarves. It will make things a little easier on everyone if we can all get along."  
  
"I haven't been much help to you, have I?" asked Legolas ruefully. "I'm sorry for that. I should be the one you can always count on and I've been quite useless."  
  
"You've been an incredible help," insisted Aragorn. "After all, you've had very little experience in actual combat in Mirkwood and no experience at all outside of it. Most people in your situation would have fallen completely apart, but you helped us escape from the Watcher and killed the troll. That's pretty good for a first mission."  
  
"Thank you," breathed Legolas, bringing their mouths together again. "I needed to hear that."  
  
Their bodies were pressed tightly against each other. "I want you," murmured Aragorn.  
  
"And I want you."  
  
"But we can't. Not yet, anyway..."  
  
"No, now is not the time," agreed Legolas. "But we can still kiss and we can still touch. I can touch you here," he said, spreading his hands over Aragorn's chest. The hands slid down to his stomach. "I can touch you here." Aragorn gasped as the hands went lower. Legolas gave him a mischievous grin. "And I can most definitely touch you here."  
  
Aragorn sucked in some air and reached out to Legolas, touching him in places and ways that no one had touched him before. "Ai, Elbereth," moaned the elf. "Oh, Aragorn! Don't you dare stop." Legolas touched the man more, trying to give as much pleasure as he was receiving. From the sounds that Aragorn was making, he guessed that he was doing a pretty good job of that.  
  
Aragorn's knees buckled and he pulled Legolas to the forest floor as he fell. There, among the elanor flowers and golden trees, the lovers explored each other's bodies through their clothing. The pleasure only increased, until such a burst of it filled Legolas' body that his toes curled and he couldn't think straight. When his head cleared, he rolled his head to the side to see Aragorn breathing deeply and smiling at him. The ranger leaned over and kissed him again; not as passionately as before, but it felt more intimate.  
  
"I suppose we should clean off and get back to camp," Aragorn murmured.  
  
"I don't think I can," replied Legolas blithely. "There are no bones left in my body."  
  
"Come, melethnin," urged Aragorn, kissing him on the tip of his nose. "I don't relish the idea of any of the company - especially the hobbits - finding us like this."  
  
"Sam would stammer and blush," concurred Legolas. "Pippin would be full of questions and wouldn't be silent until we answered them all in painstaking detail." He sighed and rolled to his feet. "Oh all right." He smiled and added teasingly, "You can't look while I'm bathing. I already had to talk to your father about that once."  
  
Aragorn looked bewildered. "When?" he asked and then realization hit him. "That first visit. That's why Ada wouldn't let me follow you to the river."  
  
"Don't worry; I told him you weren't looking on purpose."  
  
"I wasn't!" replied Aragorn indignantly. "I wouldn't have even known what I was supposed to be looking at."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Now I know, but I still wouldn't try to sneak a look." Legolas just looked at him. "Well," amended Aragorn, looking sheepish and mischievious at the same time, "maybe I'd try a little, but I swear I'd feel guilty about it later."  
  
To be continued... 


	15. Disquiet and discord

Aragorn watched in amusement as Legolas and Gimli loaded the boats. A change had come over the pair during their stay in Lothlorien. Oh, they still bickered but now their bickering was entertaining rather than grating to him and distressing to the young hobbits. In fact, Merry and Pippin were eavesdropping as they sat close to the river's edge, trying to contain their laughter.  
  
"I don't see why I have to help you with this," Gimli was grumbling. "I'm not the only one in the company with baggage. My poor stomach is about to explode."  
  
"It is not," retorted Legolas teasingly. "And anyway, it's your own fault. What were you thinking, eating all of that lembas bread?"  
  
"I thought it was cram!"  
  
"That disgusting stuff that they Men of Dale make? Yuck."  
  
"I bet you've never tried it," snorted Gimli.  
  
"I've smelt it and that's more than enough for me."

"It would put some hair on your chest."

Legolas burst out laughing. "I'd look strange indeed, being the only elf with hair on my chest!"  
  
"Will you pay attention to how you're packing?" Gimli demanded. "There'll be no room for me at this rate."  
  
"We could always tie you off the back," Legolas suggested innocently. Gimli gave him a Look. "Don't do that," said the elf. "You look just like my father when you do that and I don't need another one, thank you very much. Come, help me readjust everything."  
  
Galadriel stood beside Aragorn and watched with him for awhile. "He's grown so much," she observed. "He is much more comfortable around others and with himself. I suspect that Legolas has matured more on this journey in these short months than he ever could have after centuries under his father's care."  
  
"He's wonderful."  
  
"And you are proving yourself more than worthy," she said. "I am proud and pleased that you've managed to keep your word to King Thranduil. Barely," she added, giving him a pointed look. Aragorn blushed.  
  
"You are fortunate," she continued. "So fortunate, in fact, that I am at a loss. I have bestowed gifts to the other members of the fellowship, but I can think of no greater gift than the one you already have."   
  
She touched the greenleaf gem broach that held his elven cloak around his neck. Aragorn had been offered the same brooch of Lothlorien that the others received, of course, but he'd refused. Over the years and especially lately he'd had little chance to wear Legolas' gift, although it never left his pocket when he didn't wear it. Now that he had the opportunity to do so, he was more than happy to display it proudly.  
  
Sadness passed over Galadriel's face. "I fear for you both," she told Aragorn. "For his love, the Sun Star will die."  
  
Guilt and anguish filled Aragorn. He always knew what Legolas would have to sacrifice to truly bind himself to him but no one had ever put it in such plain language before. "I don't want that," he said. "If there was a way to get around that, I would gladly take it. I do not hold him to this land yet, and if he finds he can't give up his immortality, I will wish him well and let him go."  
  
"That is a choice that Legolas will have to make," replied Galadriel. A flash of concern flitted over her face. "You have your own choice before you. I do not know what will happen if you manage to rise about all of your fathers since the days of Elendil. Even my foresight cannot pierce that mist. However, if you fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin Legolas will die sooner rather than later no matter what path he chooses."  
  
A chill ran down Aragorn's spine at her warning, but all he did was nod and bow his head. Galadriel caught his chin and gently urged the head to rise. "The only time I will see you again," she said fondly and wistfully, "is if you claim the kingship, the White City is renewed, and King Thranduil walks with Legolas when he comes to marry you."  
  
_'All of my dreams,'_ thought Aragorn. "Do you think that will happen?" he asked aloud.  
  
"Even the wise cannot tell." With that, Galadriel walked away, towards Frodo.  
  
Legolas came up to him when the Lady left. "The boats are packed," he reported. When Aragorn didn't reply, he glanced over to Galadriel. "She gave me a wonderful bow and a new quiver," he said. "The bow is much larger and more powerful than my other one. It will come in handy as the mission gets more dangerous. What did she give to you?"  
  
Aragorn smiled warmly at him. "She is a wise being," he said, willing himself to not show the uneasiness that her words caused in him. "Wise enough to know there is no gift that she could give that could compete with the gift of your love."  
  
_####################_  
  
The words of Galadriel haunted Aragorn all day as the fellowship navigated their boats down the Anduin. By the time they came ashore to set up camp for the night, he was downright restless. Back in Rivendell Legolas had predicted that he'd be faced with the temptation of the ring and now Galadriel implied that too. Would he be able to resist the ring's pull? Isildur was a great man who saw Sauron kill his father and yet he took the ring, which was a betrayal to everything that Elendil had died for. How could Isildur's heir have the strength to overcome?  
  
Boromir approached him while he brooded and pulled him away farther from the campfire. "There's something following us," he said in a low, urgent voice.  
  
"It's Gollum," said Aragorn, detesting that wretched creature ever more now than he did when he delivered him to Mirkwood with Mithrandir. "I hoped we'd lose him on the river but he's too good a waterman."  
  
"You knew he was following us and still led us on this path?" asked Boromir incredulously. "Do you know how many orcs are on the eastern shore? He'll lead every one of them to us before dawn! We should turn now and take the road to Minas Tirith."  
  
Aragorn could hardly contain his exasperation. Boromir had told him of Gondor's ever-growing weakness and disquiet in Lothlorien; now he wanted them to take the ring there? "From what I've heard," he said pointedly, "there's little strength in Gondor right now."  
  
Boromir's face turned red. "You trusted the elves quickly enough," he said, accusation in is voice.  
  
"You can hardly compare the two."  
  
"Only because you refuse to trust your own kind!" Boromir's voice rose and the rest of the fellowship glanced over at them. "How can you trust elves, half-elves, and wizards more than truehearted Men? You hide among the elves. You call some of them your family, you were raised as one, you've even taken one as a lover! All because you're afraid of what you really are."  
  
Aragorn's blood boiled at the barely veiled contempt in Boromir's tone when he spoke about Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Mithrandir, and Legolas. "If all the Men of Gondor are as _truehearted _as you are now," he snapped, "then I vow now that I'll never lead the ring within a hundred leagues of your city."  
  
Boromir stomped off without another word towards the banks of the Anduin. _'Hopefully the river will help him collect himself,'_ Aragorn thought crossly. His eyes turned to the campfire, where the rest of the company were, and winced inwardly. Frodo and Sam were thankfully settling down for the night, but four figures - one tall and the others short - were huddled close together. His argument with Boromir had frightened the two younger hobbits.  
  
Aragorn remorsefully went back to the campfire. Merry was leaning against Gimli while Pippin sat on Legolas' lap, playing with a lock of the elf's golden hair. "Did you really, Legolas?" Pippin was asking.  
  
Legolas laughed. "Yes," he said. "That whole ridiculous 'Sun Star' business had just started. I was so mad at the troubadours for interrupting my shooting and playing, and at Ada - my father - for insisting that I listen to them all the time. I figured that they'd leave me alone if I didn't look all _pretty and golden_, or whatever they were singing about me that day. I thought I was being terribly sly and clever, sneaking out to roll around in the mud and smashing berries in my hair until it was red. My father looked like he was going to explode when he found me!"  
  
Everyone guffawed at the image of a redheaded Legolas caked in mud. "I would have loved to see that, laddie," howled Gimli. "I bet you looked just lovely with hair as red as a dwarf's."  
  
"My father certainly didn't like it," recalled Legolas. "The day's session was cancelled, just like I wanted, but I had to spend all of that day washing the stain from my hair. The following day the session was even longer to accommodate the troubadours I'd missed."  
  
"It sounds like you were even more trouble than Pip and me," chuckled Merry.  
  
"I don't know about that," mused Legolas. He looked up and saw Aragorn standing at the edge of the circle. "Will you all excuse me? Pippin?"  
  
Pippin let Legolas up. The elf smiled briefly at them before going to Aragorn. "Is everything all right?" he asked.  
  
"Boromir and I had a difference of opinion," said Aragorn, looking guiltily at Merry and Pippin. "I guess everyone heard."  
  
"The young hobbits were a little upset," Legolas said diplomatically. "Fortunately tales of my wayward youth seems to have taken their minds off things."  
  
"Am I wrong?" Aragorn asked him. "Am I afraid to trust my own people?"  
  
"No," said Legolas firmly. "Boromir believes too much in the strength of his own people, so much that he refuses the see the strength in peoples of other races. You are wise enough to acknowledge your own weaknesses. Boromir can't see his own downfalls, and if you can't see something you can't fight against it. I just hope he'll come to wisdom before his time come or else he won't be able to handle the temptation as well as I know you will."  
  
To be continued...

_A/N: I just want to thank all my reviewers. I'm over 100 reviews! You people rock._


	16. When it counted

"We'll cross the river at nightfall," announced Aragorn as the others set up camp near the river at Path Galen. "Then we'll hide the boats and continue on foot, approaching Mordor from the north."  
  
"That simple, huh?" Gimli blustered. "We'll just stroll across the labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks that is the Emyn Muil. Then we can swim through the festering marshlands and knock on the Black Gates!"  
  
Aragorn could barely supress his exasperated sigh when he saw Merry and Pippin's apprehensive faces. Did Gimli really have to put it that way and scare them? "That is our road," he said firmly. "If you don't think you can handle it, Master Dwarf, then you should leave the company right now with no shame on you. If you intend to stay, then I suggest you take this opportunity to rest and recover your strength."  
  
He allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction when Gimli sputtered and grumbled in response. Legolas, who had been standing at the forest's edge, rushed to his side. Aragorn expected his lover to whisper a joke about dwarvish nerves or perhaps to playfully scold him for tormenting Gimli, but the look in his eyes told him otherwise. Legolas looked anxious, almost desperate. "We should leave now," he said.  
  
"No," Aragorn told him. "We'd be moving targets for the orcs on the eastern shore. The night will give us some cover."  
  
"The orcs on the eastern shore are not our main problem," replied Legolas. "A shadow and a threat has been growing on my mind. Something draws near; I can feel it."  
  
"A shadow and a threat?" repeated Aragorn. "Of what?"  
  
"The threat is of the uruk-hai that Saruman has been breeding," said Legolas, his eyes searching through the trees. "They are coming even now. The shadow is more elusive, but it feels closer, more personal."  
  
Aragorn grabbed his shoulder. "Closer and more personal?" he asked, and then forced out the question he didn't even want to think about. "Is it one of us?"  
  
Whatever Legolas' response would have been was cut off by another important question. "Where's Frodo?" Merry asked.  
  
Aragorn frantically looked around the campsite, his eyes finally resting on Boromir's shield. His blood ran cold. Frodo was gone. Boromir was gone. A shadow, close and personal to the fellowship was growing. He remembered Boromir's desire to bring the ring to Minas Tirith; would he be able to resist its lure? Legolas caught his eye and they exchanged a worried glance as they thought the same thought. "I'm sure he just went for a walk to clear his mind," Aragorn said with false confidence. "Why don't I go look for him?"  
  
"Can we come too?" asked Pippin.  
  
"It would be better if Aragorn went alone," Legolas told him, catching Gimli's eye and giving him a meaningful look. "If we all went, who would protect Gimli here during his time of exhaustion?"  
  
Gimli put on a show of muttering and glowering. Aragorn gave them both a grateful look and squeezed Legolas' hand before slipping off. "I'll have you know," Gimli sputtered with exaggerated indignance, "that dwarves have excellent endurance."  
  
Legolas winked at Merry and Pippin as he sat down next to them and tossed them a mischievous smirk. "You don't say," he said smoothly.  
  
"I could do anything you challenged me to do better than you!" Outrun, out-climb, kill more orcs, anything."  
  
"We need some witnesses to these bold words," Legolas said. "Merry, Pippin; Sam, get over here!"  
  
There was no response. "Sam?" called Gimli. The spot he'd been sitting in was empty. There was no sign of him in the immediate vicinity. Even his pack was gone! "Where did he go?"  
  
All the playfulness was gone from Legolas' face. "We'd better go look for him." he fretted.  
  
Merry jumped to his feet. "Should we split up?" he asked.  
  
The image of the coming uruk-hai flashed in Legolas' mind. "I think it would be better if the two of you hid," he suggested. "That way when we find him, you can jump out and give him a start. It will serve him right for leaving without saying anything."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Pippin agreed enthusiastically. "Where should we hide?"  
  
"We'll find the perfect spot," promised Legolas. The four walked quickly into the forest, keeping in mind not to go too far from the camp. It wasn't long before they found a small mound with growth and logs that hid a small cutout. Legolas and Gimli helped each hobbit in, taking care to cover them with their elven cloaks. "Now don't make a sound," urged the elf.  
  
"And don't come out until one of our company comes back," added Gimli.  
  
Pippin nodded happily, but Merry gave them a hard assessing look. His face turned grim at what he saw there. "We won't," he vowed. "Not without a very good reason."  
  
_###################_  
  
Aragorn ran between the trees. So far there was no sign of either Frodo or Boromir. Of course, if Boromir killed the hobbit and stole the ring, a small body would be easy to hide or bear away and he himself would be invisible. _'Don't think like that!'_ Aragorn scolded himself. But those thoughts kept coming, spurring him on until he thought his lungs would explode.  
  
When he finally stopped to suck in some air, Aragorn noticed the movement of footprints being made. Hobbit-sized footprints to be exact and they were being left by someone unseen. Frodo! The hobbit still had the ring, and something scared him enough to put it on. _'I can guess what that something was,'_ thought Aragorn with disgust as he quietly followed Frodo. When they reached a ruin at the top of a hill, Frodo slipped off the ring and Aragorn called gently to him: "Frodo?"  
  
Frodo spun around, realizing he'd been followed. He looked only a little comforted by the fact that it was Aragorn. "It has taken Boromir," he reported.  
  
The disgust in Aragorn grew. How dare that man make him doubt himself and trumpet the strength of Gondor, only to turn around and attack the ringbearer at the first chance he got? "Where is the ring?" he growled, a little more angrily than he should have.  
  
Frodo scampered back. "Stay away!" he cried, fearful of another attack.  
  
Cursing himself, Aragorn stepped forward and held out his hands in a sign of friendship and peace. "Frodo," he said more calmly this time, "I swore to protect you."  
  
Frodo apparently had enough of promises of protection now that he'd seen what the ring could do to someone's promises. "Can you protect me from yourself?" he asked, pulling out the ring. When he spoke again there was a challenge and a taunt in his voice. "Or would you destroy it?"  
  
Aragorn slowly dropped to his knees, unconsciously reaching for the ring. Unbidden images rushed into his head: _There he was, the king of a renewed Gondor and Arnor with Legolas at his side. His father and brothers stood with a crowd of people, cheering. There also were the hobbits, giddy with excitement, and Gimli, who practically glowed with pride. The pride of Boromir and his father Denethor was now gone and they kneeled before him. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were there as well, since it was his wedding and she said they'd be there. In fact, her voice was running through his mind right now, though he couldn't make out the words. Even King Thranduil looked pleased to be there. Well, why wouldn't he be? The ring would make him immortal, saving Legolas from mortality just like he wanted; now Legolas wouldn't have to make that choice...  
  
_"If you fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin, Legolas will die sooner rather than later no matter what his choice is."_ Galadriel's words slammed into his mind. Suddenly Aragorn was surrounded by the charred walls and littered streets that had once been Minas Tirith. The heavy was filthy and the smell of burning death clung to it. The White Tree was being chopped down by the orcs that made up the crowd that was cheering for him. He turned to see Legolas still standing beside him, now holding the silver ring Aragorn had given him in his hand. The ring burst_ _into a flame that burned Legolas' hands. Aragorn cried out and reached for him when he realized that he was holding the greenleaf gem in one of his hands. The gem was in pieces that scratched his hands. Some of the shards flew out of his grasp and cut Legolas all over.  
  
Legolas looked at him with unfathomable depths of grief emanating from his eyes. "You murdered Aragorn," he sobbed accusatorily.  
  
Aragorn shook his head vehemently. "I am Aragorn!"  
  
"Aragorn was a man," said Legolas, sounding weaker with every word. "A good, honorable man. You are none of those things." The elf's legs gave out. Aragorn caught him before he hit the ground and gaped at the sight of his white face. Legolas was fading fast. "I would have liked to see him again," he gasped out, and died.  
_  
Shaking himself out of the horrible image, Aragorn reached out and covered Frodo's fingers over the ring. "I would have followed you to the end," he said, gently pushing the hands back. "Into the fires of Mordor."  
  
"I know," replied Frodo with warmth and understanding.  
  
Aragorn brought his hands back slowly, still feeling the pull of the ring despite everything he saw. A hideous, treacherous voice spoke in his head. "You resisted the ring once," it taunted. "But you could not do it again."  
  
It was another voice that responded, helping Aragorn to pull back all the way. It came from across time and leagues from an archery field about 77 years ago: "No, probably not right now. But he did it when it counted. I am most impressed."   
  
To be continued...

_Author's request: I'm getting closer to the chapters dealing with The Two Towers and need some help. Does anyone out there know of any websites that have all of the elvish dialogue from that film written out? Or just of a really good site that does a general English-to-Elvish or whatever. I don't want to stumble onto a crappy site and use inaccurate material in my ignorance, so any suggestions/advice would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!_


	17. I knew you could do it

Aragorn jumped suddenly, drawing his sword. A frightened, panicked look ghosted over Frodo's face before he realized what made the ranger draw his weapon seemingly on him: Sting was glowing blue. Orcs were close by! "Run," Aragorn ordered. Frodo stared at him, his brain refusing to register his words. "Run!" he ordered again, louder and more urgent.  
  
Frodo finally turned and ran. Aragorn faced the oncoming orcs. For now, all fears and doubts had left him. He'd faced the temptation of the ruling ring and was able to defeat it. _'After that,'_ he mused confidently, '_an army of orcs is nothing.'_

The uruk-hai were on him soon enough and he fought each one that came, up to the top of the ruins. "Elendil!" he shouted, jumping down on to land on top of even more uruk-hai. Yes, for he was not only Isildur's heir, but also of the line of Elendil, the rightful king of Gondor, and the lover of Prince Legolas Thranduilion. Right now he felt like he could take on all of the forces of Isengard and Mordor single-handedly and triumph.  
  
Legolas and Gimli came from the forest, their weapons drawn at the sight of the uruk-hai. They ignored Aragorn's look of surprise and question and searched the battle for any sign of Frodo, Sam, or Boromir. None of them appeared to be in this fray. "Aragorn, go!" shouted Legolas. _'Find the hobbits and Boromir,' _he added silently, not daring to say it aloud. What would happen if the uruk-hai knew that some of their company were by themselves was a thought he didn't even want to entertain.  
  
Aragorn understood the sentiment, if not the full reasons, behind Legolas' urging and ran off. The elf turned his mind to the uruk-hai. _'Don't think about how many there are and how you can't kill them all,'_ he instructed himself gravely. _'Think only about the ones you can kill.'_ He fired off a couple of shots, hitting an uruk-hai each time. Drawing another arrow, he was accosted by one of the disgusting creatures. He was too close to shoot! Acting on pure survival instinct, Legolas thrust the arrow forward, jamming it through its skull. He then quickly drew back the arrow, readied his bow, and killed another creature that was trying to get close.  
  
Gimli snorted with approval between axe swings. "Two birds with one stone," he commented. "You're getting the hang of this, laddie. One day you might even be as good as me!"  
  
Legolas would have retorted had he not seen the predicament that Aragorn was in. The ranger hadn't gone too far from the fray when he'd been attacked by an uruk-hai that now had its filthy hands around his neck. _'Concentrate on the ones you can kill,'_ he smirked with no mercy. _'And there's one I can definitely kill.'  
_  
Aragorn was struggling, trying to suck in enough air to not pass out before he could pry the uruk-hai's fingers from around his throat. If this kept up any longer, he was going to die! Suddenly, the creature's grip slackened and it slumped to the ground with an arrow sticking out of its back. Gasping for air, he looked from the arrow to his elven lover. Legolas was a mess - at least according to the standards of his people - with his hair slightly unruly from the action, his cheeks red with emotion and exertion, and the beginnings of a bruise on his forehead. To Aragorn, he looked more beautiful now than he ever did even in his finest clothes. The man was startled to realize that he was proud of Legolas. He never before thought himself worthy enough to be proud of anything that the elf did; rather he felt awed by almost anything he did. Aragorn always thought that being proud of someone was something awarded to someone by their betters, but now he understood what Legolas meant every time he said he was proud of him. It wasn't just encouragement and appreciation, but also the happiness of seeing someone you care about doing something you knew they could do all along. It was a new feeling for Aragorn and he wished he had more time to ponder all that it meant.  
  
Before he could even utter a word of thanks to Legolas, the sounding of a horn filled the air. Legolas whipped his head in the direction of the sound. "The Horn of Gondor!" he cried in alarm.  
  
"Boromir!" Aragorn took off, fighting any uruk-hai that got in his way. Any anger he felt towards the other man was long gone. After experiencing for himself the power of the ring, Aragorn knew all too well the temptations it offered. It promised to fulfill your fondest dreams in a matter of moments. Now he felt sympathy for Boromir's plight. After all, he had the love of Legolas, who knew the ring was evil and wanted him to resist it; while Boromir had tot live up to the expectations of Denethor, who would undoubtedly want his son to bring it to Minas Tirith.  
  
He finally reached the bottom of the hill and was horrified by the sight that greeted him: a large uruk-hai was about to shoot Boromir execution-style. The Gondorian just looked up at the bow, too weak to fight back with three arrows already in him. Well, he wasn't too weak to fight! He lunged at the monster and a fierce fight began. _'Legolas,'_ he thought as they exchanged punishing blows. _'Legolas, Ada, Elrohir, Elladan, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Boromir!'_ He wouldn't and couldn't be slain, for their sakes.

The thing, however, refused to die or even falter, not even when Aragorn chopped off its arm. He stabbed desperately, putting his sword through its torso, but the creature only pulled it into his body even more, pulling Aragorn along with it. The smug growl he made in his face turned any fear Aragorn felt into disgusted annoyance._ 'Live through this,'_ he thought and beheaded the uruk-hai in one swift motion. The body fell to the ground and Aragorn used his last remaining strength to stumble to Boromir's side.  
  
Boromir was in obvious pain but still alive. "They took the little ones," he sobbed out.   
  
_'Which little ones?'_ thought Aragorn, but before he asked the question out loud, Boromir asked, "Frodo. Where is Frodo?"  
  
Thank the Valar that Frodo hadn't been captured! "I let Frodo go," he said.  
  
"Then you did what I could not," Boromir told him, a look of shame filling his face at the memory. "I tried to take the ring from him and this is the price I must pay for failing you all."  
  
"You didn't fail us," Aragorn comforted. "You fought bravely and kept your honor."  
  
"You were right about not taking the ring to Gondor," Boromir choked out. "Forgive me; I did not see it. Men couldn't resist it and for that the world of Men will fall and my city fall into ruin."  
  
"I swear to you by whatever strength there is in my blood that the White City will not fall," vowed Aragorn. "There is still valor and honor in the world of Men and I will make sure that our people don't fail."  
  
"Our people?" mused Boromir. Aragorn nodded and Boromir gave him as strong a smile as he could manage. "Our people. I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king." With those last words, Boromir died.  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes. "Be at peace, son of Gondor," he whispered, kissing Boromir's brow.  
  
Legolas, with Gimli close behind, had come during the final exchange between those two. Now he watched as his confusion mingled with grief. Boromir was injured, very injured, and now...  
  
He'd seen many dead orcs and many orcs die on this mission, but this was something different. And it wasn't like seeing the dead body of an enemy of Sauron. Moria had been filled with those, but they had just been skeletons. This, this was someone he knew, someone he recognized. He was suddenly grateful that he never had to witness Mithrandir's last moments; to have to watch the light go out in him as it did in Boromir at this moment would have been unbearable. Was this what everyone looked like when they died? He was sure he'd find out no matter how much he didn't want to and that thought brought forth fears he'd managed to hold at bay since the company left Moria.  
  
Aragorn came over to them. "Boromir said that the uruk-hai took 'the little ones,'" he reported grimly. "He didn't say who those little ones were. I don't think one was Frodo; he asked where Frodo was. Where are the other hobbits?"  
  
"Sam slipped away from the camp," said Legolas. "That's why we were so close to where the uruk-hai attacked. We hid Merry and Pippin before we went looking for him..."  
  
His voice trailed off as he whirled around and took off. Aragorn and Gimli followed as best they could to Merry and Pippin's hiding spot. Legolas was already leaning over, looking into the cutout. "They're not here!" Legolas lamented. "They said they weren't going to leave this spot. I should never have left them on their own."  
  
"Maybe someone's back at the campsite," suggested Gimli gently. They trekked to the camp, but there was no sign of any of the hobbits. Legolas scanned the area in desperation and almost cried out in relief. "Frodo and Sam are on the eastern shore," he announced.  
  
"That means the uruk-hai have Merry and Pippin," Aragorn concluded.  
  
"Who do we follow?" asked Gimli. "Either way, the fellowship has failed."  
  
"Not if we hold true to each other," declared Aragorn. "Right now, we have to save Merry and Pippin before they torment to death. Frodo's fate in no longer in our hands."  
  
Legolas heard the hitch in Aragorn's voice. ""Did something happen?" he asked.  
  
Aragorn looked him in the eyes and smiled. "I found out that I'm not Isildur," he answered simply, knowing that Legolas would understand.  
  
Legolas' eyes shone with pride. "I knew you could do it," he whispered.  
  
Gimli, not understanding the meaning behind their words, went on. "We just can't leave Boromir's body on the ground to rot and be despoiled," he pointed out.  
  
"We don't need the boats where we're going," said Aragorn. "We'll give him to the Anduin to protect and preserve. After that, we'll hunt some orcs."  
  
To be continued...

_A/N: Thank you to Musicstarlover, Nienna Coamenel, Tanin, Raven, and Rain for suggesting some websites for The Two Towers elvish dialogue, and to anyone else who made a suggestion that I haven't seen yet (I've yet to check my e-mail today)._


	18. An unexpected restoration

They had run three days straight across the plains of Rohan, finding no sign of the young hobbits other than the distant thunder of footfalls and a Lothlorien clock brooch that had been trampled into the ground. Their hope was rapidly dwindling into frustration and despair as the uruk-hai, aided by the will of Saruman, put more and more distance between the two groups. Now, when they could have used a little luck, Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli were surrounded by an armed cavalry of Rohirrim who were pointing spears uncomfortably close to their chests.  
  
"What business does an elf, a man, and a dwarf have in the Riddemark?" demanded a rider, apparently the leader. "Speak quickly!"  
  
Gimli eyed him with suspicion. "Give me your name, horse master, and I will give you mine," he retorted, defiant but weary.   
  
The man dismounted and stalked towards the three hunters. He did not look amused. "I would cut off your head, dwarf," he bit out contemptibly, "if it stood a little higher to the ground."   
  
Legolas couldn't take it anymore. Perhaps the greatest trick of the enemy was how he caused discord among those who would oppose him, but enough was enough. They were doing everything they could to stop Sauron, losing two friends already and possibly more. There really wasn't any good time to lose his temper, but he couldn't stand to see his friend threatened. He drew his bow in an instant. "You would die before your stroke fell!"  
  
The spears came closer. Aragorn gently but urgently placed his hand on Legolas'. It was the first time in days that they'd touched and the contact felt intimate and soothing. The ranger discreetly rubbed his Legolas' thumb with his own as he slowly urged the bow down. _Trust me_ was the message he sent silently through the gesture. _Support me as you have been. I will make sure that none of us get hurt.  
_  
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Aragorn announced to the leader. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin of the Lonely Mountain, and Legolas, prince of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood. We come as friends to both Rohan and its king."  
  
"The king no longer recognizes friend from foe," the man said, removing his helm. The rest lowered their weapons. "He does not even trust me, and I am his kin - his sister-son Eomer. My men and I have been banished for trying to save the kingdom from Saruman." His lips curled into a sneer at the name. "He knows all the goings-on of Rohan. His spies are everywhere, coming from close to home and -" he glared at Legolas, who glared right back "-from the evil places abroad."  
  
"We are not spies," Aragorn said a little testily. He told himself that ramming a spear through Eomer's body wasn't the way to defend Legolas from insult at the moment. "We are hunting a pack of uruks. They've kidnapped two of our friends."  
  
"The uruks are dead," replied Eomer dismissively. "We slaughtered them in the night."  
  
"Were there two hobbits with them?" demanded Gimli desperately.  
  
Eomer looked confused, so Aragorn elaborated: "Our friends were of a people from the north who are child-sized."  
  
"We left none alive," admitted Eomer, and the look of contempt he had since the beginning of their meeting was gone. "I am sorry."  
  
"They're dead?" whispered Legolas. Images flashed through his mind: Pippin sitting on his lap at the camp on the banks of Anduin; Merry's grim expression when they left the hobbits in the hiding spot at Amon Hen. To think of them dead, with the light gone from their eyes as it was gone from Boromir's was devastating. Aragorn slipped his arm around the elf's waist and Legolas reciprocated, both offering the other what little comfort that they could.  
  
The guilt on Eomer's face grew. "We piled the bodies over there and burned them," he said, pointing to a smoky area on the outskirts of Fangorn Forest. "I can provide you with horses to get there. Hasufel! Arod!"  
  
A large chestnut horse came forward, followed swiftly by a smaller white one that was shaking its head and stamping its feet a little. Legolas grabbed the white horse's reins and stroked its neck. The horse calmed under his touch.  
  
Eomer stared at them in wonder. "That's Arod," he said with awe in his voice. "I'm impressed at how easily you get him to calm down. What he lacks in stature he more than makes up for in his wild spirit. I don't imagine he'd be a suitable choice for an elven prince."  
  
"I've always chosen the things in life that weren't suitable for elven princes," replied Legolas, sneaking a quick glance at Aragorn, "and that all started with horses. This one is just about perfect for me."  
  
_##############  
_  
The smell of burnt flesh reached them before they even got to the burn pile. Aragorn dismounted quickly and skillfully and ran to the pile. Gimli followed close behind, but Legolas intentionally lagged. What if Merry and Pippin lying dead on the ground, trampled or desecrated? What if they were in the pile? He felt nauseous at the thought that they could reach into the burn pile and pull out the charred but still identifiable bodies of the hobbits. Oh why hadn't he stayed with them at Amon Hen?  
  
The same fears that froze Legolas propelled Gimli forward. He dove straight into the pile and rummaged through the ash, not really sure of what he was hoping to find. A few seconds later, he pulled up something familiar. "It's one of their wee belts," he choked up, holding it up for the others to see. "The Lady of the Golden Wood gave each of them one of these. They're - they're - we failed them."  
  
"Hiro hyn hidh ab 'wannath _(May they find peace after death_)," Legolas whispered. Where did hobbits go after they died? None of the lore of his people dealt with hobbits, so he wouldn't find the answer in his schooling or his father's tales. Maybe the hobbits didn't even know the answer to that question. It seemed unlikely that such a merry and innocent people would have a tradition for such a depressing topic. On the other hand, hobbits were mortal and all mortals died... _'Stop it right now!'_ Legolas scolded himself. _'Such dark thoughts won't help anyone. Think of Aragorn; attend to Aragorn.'_  
  
_'I'm a joke',_ Aragorn decided dismally. An absolute fraud when it came to being a leader. Mithrandir had trusted him to lead the others as best he could but where had all of his decisions led them? First Boromir had died and now Merry and Pippin had come to a hideous end. He kicked an uruk-hai helmet and screamed in frustration, dropping to his knees.   
  
Legolas hurried over and wrapped his arms around Aragorn's shoulders, squeezing a little too hard. Aragorn leaned his head back to touch foreheads with his lover and something caught his eye. "A hobbit lay here," he told his companions sadly. "And another over there." His eyes narrowed and then widened. "They crawled!"  
  
"What?" asked Legolas, barely daring to hope. He released Aragorn's shoulders so the man could track Merry and Pippin's movements.  
  
"Their hands were bound," reported Aragorn, observing the indentations in the ground. He reached down and picked up pieces of rope. "Their binds were cut. They ran away from the fight," he continued, running along the hobbits trail, followed swiftly by Legolas and Gimli. They stopped within inches of the ominous trees. "And into Fangorn Forest."  
  
"Out of one madness and into another," murmured Gimli in worried horror.  
  
_#################_  
  
They'd been in the forest for some time before Legolas and Aragorn had the chance to talk privately. "How's your foot?" the elf inquired.  
  
"It's fine," answered Aragorn, looking chagrined and embarrassed. "It was a stupid thing to do, kicking that helmet. What if I'd broken some toes, or even my foot?"  
  
"You didn't," said Legolas soothingly. "And you were just doing what we all felt like doing. I think Gimli and I proved during that business with Eomer that no one here does what's best all of the time." He paused, wondering if he should ask the question that had been nagging him. "Aragorn, where do hobbits go when they die?"  
  
"Don't think that way."  
  
"I'm not," said Legolas quickly. "At least, I'm trying not. It just feels like all I can think about lately is death. I know what happens to elves that are slain, and is supposed to happen to men and dwarves. I can guess what happens to wizards. Maybe I can be comforted if I knew what happens to hobbits."  
  
Aragorn looked at him for a long time. "I think you're the only one who's wondered that," he finally said thoughtfully. "Hobbit lore has never been an interest to other races and hobbits don't really think about it. They're too busy living life to worry about what's beyond death."  
  
The trees creaked all around them. "This forest is old and full of thoughts of pain and anger," said Legolas reverently. "The trees are speaking to each other right now. I wish I knew their language."  
  
"We don't need to know their language to know that they're angry," observed Aragorn. He glanced over at Gimli and saw an unnerving sight. "Gimli, lower your axe!"  
  
"I found orc blood," explained Gimli, lowering his weapon nervously. "I just thought it would be a good idea to be armed and ready."  
  
"Orcs aren't going to be a problem," said Legolas slowly. "I doubt that the trees would tolerate them." He saw something moving towards them through the trees - something white. "The problem right now," he hissed urgently, "is that the white wizard is approaching."  
  
Aragorn went rigid and drew his sword. "If he speaks, he will put a spell on us," he whispered fiercely. "We must be swift."  
  
Without a word, Legolas and Gimli readied their weapons. They waited for a few tense seconds for Aragorn's signal. When the man nodded, they turned and attacked a figure shrouded in a blinding white light. Gimli's thrown axe dropped harmlessly to the ground. Legolas' arrow went wild. An intense heat forced Aragorn to drop his sword. The three stood rooted to the ground, unable to take their eyes off the figure.  
  
"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits," said the figure. His voice sounded familiar to Legolas. It was like Saruman's (whom the young elf met a few times when the White Council was battling the evil in Southern Mirkwood), but also not like his. "They met someone they did not expect the day before yesterday," the lighted figure continued. "Does that comfort you?"  
  
"Where are they?" yelled Aragorn, trying to sound threatening. "Who are you?"  
  
The light receded to reveal not Saruman but Mithrandir. "Mithrandir!" cried Legolas as his knees gave out. Too much had happened for him to still believe that the Valar would spare anyone just because he loved them. He really should be questioning how the wizard could be standing before them, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that life was in a friend he thought was dead. Maybe there was hope for the hobbits after all.  
  
"Gandalf," sobbed Gimli, falling to his knees next to Legolas.  
  
"Mithrandir," mused the wizard as if he were trying out the word for the first time. Aragorn stepped forward and clutched his arm, concerned. "Mithrandir and Gandalf the Grey. That was what they used to call me."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "How is this possible?" he asked.  
  
"I will tell you on the way," Mithrandir answered. "All that is important for you to know right now is that I come back to you at the turn of the tide, and that tide is turning soon. I've already put Merry and Pippin on their course with the Ents. Rise my friends, for now we must get to Edoras; there is a lot to do and little time to do it in."  
  
To be continued... 


	19. The joys and griefs of living

It was night. The three hunters and Mithrandir would reach the Golden Hall of Meduseld the next day. From their encounter with Eomer and his riders they knew that something was wrong with King Theoden, so what was going to happen tomorrow was anyone's guess. Right now all they could do was try to relax at their makeshift campsite. Mithrandir and Aragorn sat together smoking their pipes while Legolas sat staring at the stars.  
  
Gimli flopped on his back next to the elf. "By Aule, laddie," he said. "Don't you sleep?"  
  
"Not really," answered Legolas. "We elves require little sleep. Even when we do rest, it's not what you would call 'sleep.'"  
  
"Hrrumph," grunted Gimli. "I feel sorry for you then. There's almost nothing as satisfying then a good, deep sleep when you really need it."  
  
"Is that why you snore?" asked Legolas curiously. "Because you're satisfied?"  
  
"I don't snore!"  
  
Sitting a few feet away with his back to the pair, Mithrandir chuckled. "There seems to have been a change in that relationship," he commented.  
  
"It happened in Lothlorien," Aragorn told him, allowing himself a few seconds to get lost in thought and memory. "A lot of things happened after you fell."  
  
"Oh?" asked Mithrandir. "Things in your relationship with Legolas, perhaps? Come now, tell a wise and noisy wizard all about it."  
  
"Legolas and I - our relationship - it's different," said Aragorn. Mithrandir raised his eyebrows, silently urging him to continue. "It's not a bad change. I still love him with all that I am, and he loves me." He sighed. "I don't think I know the right words to describe it."  
  
"Well, what exactly has changed?" questioned the wizard.  
  
"Little things," answered Aragorn slowly. "He still knows my thoughts and my actions; but he's more likely to help me rather than playfully tease when I'm flustered. And, on that day at Amon Hen, I saw him fighting the uruks and I was proud of him. I've never been proud of Legolas. I've never -"  
  
"Felt worthy enough to think you had the right to be proud of him?" supplied Mithrandir. Aragorn nodded. "Congratulations."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You two have gone beyond the thrill of young love," explained Mithrandir. "Before, even as a man, you still saw Legolas through that ten-year-old boy's eyes: as someone you didn't deserve but got anyway. You two loved each other, but circumstances kept that love from deepening for a long time. When you were finally able to spend some time together, such a love must either wither or deepen. You're now looking beyond the childhood fantasies to see Legolas as he really is. The relationship is now one between partners, equals, and that is the key to any long-lasting love."  
  
"It feels good," admitted Aragorn. "It feels right. I just hate to lose all the emotions that go along with young love."  
  
"You won't lose all of them," said Mithrandir, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "After all, what would you and Legolas be doing if Gimli and I decided to take a long walk right now?" He laughed at the grin that covered Aragorn's face. "See? I don't think you need to worry about it."  
  
"Are you and Gimli planning on taking a long walk?" asked Aragorn hopefully.  
  
_#################  
_  
The reek of despair clung to Rohan. Upon arriving in Edoras, they found a king aged and wizened before his time, a frustrated and cold young woman trapped by the circumstances, and a greasy, conniving worm of a man in the middle of it all. Though Mithrandir freed King Theoden from Saruman's spells and Wormtongue's poisonous whispers - an act that brought much joy to Eowyn - not all could be mended. The king's son was dead and nothing could be done to change that.  
  
Now, after the funeral of Theodred, Theoden lingered by the burial mound. Mithrandir stayed close by and Legolas stood next to the wizard. He couldn't tear himself away. This was the first time he'd attended the formal funeral rites for a Man and the grief in the air almost choked him. Though he was silently berating himself for his newfound morbid obsession, Legolas' recent encounters with death and the threat of it left him with an almost irrational need to learn more about the emotion of grief.  
  
"Alas that these evil days are mine," said Theoden. "Why do the young perish and the old linger? Why cannot it be me buried in that mound instead of my son?"  
  
"Theodred's death was not of your making," comforted Mithrandir.  
  
Theoden looked hard at Legolas. "Do you have words of wisdom or comfort for me?" he asked with desperation and a little hostility. "Is that why you linger?"  
  
"I don't have any words that would be helpful to you right now," admitted Legolas. "If I could say anything that would comfort you I would in a heartbeat."  
  
The king's expression softened into kindness and sadness. "There are no words," he told the elf. "Nothing can take away the pain of burying someone you love. No parent should have to bury their child." Those words seemed to break what strength was left of Theoden's spirit and he fell to his knees sobbing.  
  
Mithrandir spoke some words, but Legolas didn't hear them. He was suddenly struck with a waking dream of his greatest fear. He saw himself dressed in black, walking through a hall of death. As he passed by the tombs, he could see the names of the hobbits and Gimli engraved on plaques. Even his elven footfalls seemed to echo in that cold stone place as he walked towards a stone coffin; out of its lid came a statue that bore an image of Aragorn lying down...  
  
The sound of Mithrandir's cry brought him back to reality. He turned to see a little boy and girl sitting on a brown horse. The little boy looked at them for a moment before falling off in a dead faint. Legolas broke out into a run towards them.  
  
The little girl cried out: "Eothain!" Legolas pulled her off the horse and she dropped to the boy's side. "Eothain, it's me Freda!"  
  
"What happened?" asked Legolas urgently.  
  
Freda looked up and gaped at him. "Are you an elf?" she asked in wonder.  
  
"Yes," he answered. "But more importantly, I'm a guest of your king. You need to tell me what happened."  
  
Freda's face crumpled. "The wild men," she sobbed. Legolas reached out and held her as she cried. "They burned our village to the ground."  
  
_##################  
_  
Eowyn sat rigid at a table in Meduseld, the devastation in her eyes belying her expressionless face. She'd cried at Theodred's funeral, but was determined not to break down again. Rohan didn't need her sobbing; she now had not only her duties to attend to, but also those of her cousin and her exiled brother.  
  
Aragorn approached her. "Your song was beautiful," he said gently. "I know it was a comfort to your people in such a sad time."  
  
"I wish I could be more than a comfort to my people," replied Eowyn stiffly. "We are in need of warriors, not troubadours."  
  
The White Lady of Rohan reminded Aragorn a bit of Legolas when they'd been reunited in Mirkwood when he was 21: full of frustrations that were contained only by a sense of duty. "Am I correct in guessing that you would like to be one of these warriors?" he asked.  
  
She whipped her head around and looked at him sharply. "Do you think I couldn't be?" she demanded defensively. "I'll have you know that the women of this land learned long ago that those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain."  
  
"What do you fear, my lady?"  
  
"A cage," she said as her voice faltered. "To stay behind bars until use and old age accepts them and all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire."  
  
Yes she was a lot like Legolas was back then, trapped by the fear that all he'd ever be seen as the Sun Star sitting on a stool. "You are a daughter of kings," Aragorn told her firmly. "A shieldmaiden of Rohan. I do not think that will be your destiny."  
  
The emotion in Eowyn's eyes was decidedly different from sadness when she looked at Aragorn again. He grew very uncomfortable. _'Uh, oh,'_ he thought. _'I hope she doesn't think that-'_  
  
"Make way!" shouted a voice from outside. The king rushed into the room, ordering for two bowls of stew to be prepared and brought immediately. Mithrandir came in next, supporting a filthy and weary-looking boy and Legolas followed with a similar-looking girl in his arms. They set the children down at one of the larger tables while Theoden's orders were hastily obeyed.  
  
Eowyn gazed at Aragorn for a moment longer before going over to the children. Legolas passed by her as he made his way over to the ranger. "Is there anything you want to tell me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his lover.  
  
Aragorn's face flushed. "I just told her that I didn't think she'd be trapped in a life she didn't want," he protested. "Now she's looking at me -"  
  
"The same way we look at each other," Legolas concluded for him.  
  
"Are you upset?"  
  
"I trust you," assured Legolas. "Is that trust unfounded?"  
  
"Only a fool would leave you," smiled Aragorn, looking him straight in the eye and taking one of his hands. "And I am no fool."   
  
"...And now the wild men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go, rick, cot, and tree," Eowyn was saying.   
  
Theoden held his head in his hands. "This is but a taste of what Saruman is planning," Mithrandir told him. "You must ride out and meet him head-on."  
  
"I will not risk open war and the deaths of more of my people," protested Theoden.  
  
Aragorn sympathized with his plight, but couldn't hold his tongue any longer. How could the recent outbreak of sudden attacks and the constant threat of more be called anything but open war? "Open war is upon you whether you would risk it or not," he declared.  
  
Theoden gave him a contemptible look. "Last I checked," he condescended, "Theoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." Aragorn had much more to say, but wisely ceded to the king for now.  
  
"Then what does the king command?" asked Mithrandir.  
  
Theoden looked torn. "Helm's Deep," he finally said. "Hama, send out word that all people must prepare to go to Helm's Deep."  
  
"If that is your will," said Mithrandir as Hama hurried out, "then my companions and I must prepare as well." Gesturing for Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli to follow, he left the room.  
  
Once all four were outside of Meduseld, Gimli exploded. "Helm's Deep!" he burst out. "He'd rather cower in the mountains than fight against this evil. Who will protect his people if he won't?"  
  
"He thinks he is," said Aragorn. "I don't agree with him at all, but he thinks he's doing what's best for his people."  
  
"That may be," said Mithrandir, "but in reality he's leading them straight into a massacre."  
  
"What can we do?" asked Legolas determinedly.  
  
"I'm going to find what help may be out there," answered Mithrandir. "You three must stay with the king and the Rohirrim no matter what happens. He'll need all of you, especially you Aragorn. The defenses have to hold."  
  
"They will hold," Aragorn vowed grimly.  
  
"I will come at first light on the fifth day," Mithrandir promised as he mounted his horse Shadowfax. "At dawn look to the east."  
  
With those words he took off, leaving the survival of Rohan and its people in the hands of the three hunters.  
  
To be continued...

_I just want to say thank you to all of my reviewers and readers for taking the time to read my story and encouraging me to continue!_


	20. Love's tests and trials

"You should continue to walk in front with the lookouts, Legolas," instructed Aragorn when the three hunters had a chance to meet as privately as they could at the encampment on the way to Helm's Deep. "The road goes more dangerous as we get closer to the fortress. They'll need your sharp elven eyes."  
  
"I'll do it," Legolas promised. "Although I don't think that they trust me all that much. Will you keep an eye on Gimli and make sure he stays on Arod's back?"  
  
"That fall was deliberate!" said Gimli defensively. "I was trying to cheer up the Lady Eowyn. She always looks so unhappy."  
  
Aragorn smiled at him, half-teasingly and half-kindly. "You'll be happy to know," he told the dwarf, "that she seemed cheery enough when she came by with her stew a little while ago."  
  
Legolas frowned. "Aragorn," he said cautiously. "You didn't _eat_ the stew, did you?"  
  
"She was standing right there watching me," said Aragorn. "I couldn't not eat it. I wish I didn't have to, though; that stuff was just awful. Why?"  
  
"I overheard some of the men a little while ago," replied Legolas, trying to think of a way he could put this delicately. "One of them warned the others that Lady Eowyn was cooking. They started discussing the last time one of them ate her stew, when -"  
  
Aragorn's eyes grew wide. "I have to go," he gasped, dashing behind a nearby rock.  
  
"Lad?" Gimli called after him. He turned to Legolas, who was staring at the rock with concern in his eyes. "What happened when they ate..." His voice trailed off as an unpleasant odor drifted over and realization hit him. "Ooohh."  
  
Grimacing, Legolas asked, "Gimli, would you hand me his pack? There should be some herbs in there that'll help him."  
  
"Is there anything in there that will get rid of that smell?" asked Gimli, giving him the pack.  
  
Legolas gave him a Look and rifled through the pack. When he found the herbs he was looking for, he walked over to the rock that the ranger was behind. "Aragorn?" he called.  
  
The answering voice was one of someone who was straining to sound fine. "Yes?"  
  
He handed the herbs around the side of the boulder. "These should help," he said sympathetically.  
  
"Thanks," said Aragorn gratefully, taking the packet from him. He paused for a moment and then laughed.  
  
"What's so funny?" asked Legolas, confused.  
  
"I was just thinking about when we were younger," explained Aragorn. "I would have died of embarrassment if I ever knew you'd be so close at hand while I was having, um, an overactive bowel movement."  
  
_Died_. The word brought to Legolas a now-familiar unease. "Don't joke about that!" he cried, trying desperately to keep some levity in his voice.  
  
"I smell bad," groaned Aragorn. "I feel worse. And you still love me?"  
  
"I still love you," Legolas assured him, laughing warmly. "Bad smell and overactive bowel movements and all."  
  
_#################_  
  
The next day's march was going as smoothly as it could be. Legolas kept his word to walk with the lookouts and Aragorn kept his eye on Gimli and the feisty Arod. _'At least he won't fall showing off for Lady Eowyn today,'_ he thought, amused. The lady in question was walking next to the ranger, leading a horse.  
  
"Where is she now?" Eowyn asked suddenly. Aragorn looked at her questioningly and she nodded to the greenleaf gem that held his cloak around his neck. "The woman who gave you that jewel."  
  
"It was not a woman who gave me this," said Aragorn fondly and proudly. "And he is currently walking at the front with the lookouts."  
  
"The elf?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise. "Are you two...involved?"  
  
"We've been involved for about 66 years now," Aragorn informed her. "But I've loved him for even longer, since I was ten."  
  
Eowyn looked like she had a million more questions, but a shout and startled cries put an end to her inquiry. Aragorn sped ahead, passing by the entire line until he came to a field where the lookouts were. Legolas was there, slitting the throat of an orc while the carcass of a warg laid nearby. "A scout!" the elf shouted to him, kicking the orcs body away in disgust.  
  
Aragorn raced back to the king. "Wargs!" he yelled. "We're under attack."  
  
Frightened cries filled the air, but Theoden remained calm. "All riders to the front," he ordered before turning to Eowyn. She was about to mount her horse. "Lead the people on."  
  
Eowyn looked perturbed. "I can fight!" she protested.  
  
"No!" cried Theoden, sounding scared for the first time. "Please do this for me."  
  
She gave no answer, but turned to those who were going on and ordered them to the lower road. Aragorn stared at her disappointed face as he rode off. It was a shame; he was sure they would need all the fighters that they could get.  
  
Legolas still stood in the field when the riders came, shooting at the oncoming wargs. Sensing that Arod was at hand, he grabbed the reins and flipped onto the horse's back with ease. "Good to see you still on board!" he said with feigned cheerfulness to Gimli as the opposing sides clashed.  
  
"I happen to be a rider," protested Gimli. "I can stay - argh!"  
  
Looking back, Legolas saw that the rough riding and fighting had dislodged the dwarf from Arod's back. He was now on the ground, face-to-face with a warg that looked ready to chomp down on his head. Riding around, the elf let loose an arrow, killing the beast.  
  
Gimli gave him an annoyed look. "That one counts as mine," he huffed.  
  
_###############_  
  
The battle raged on. Aragorn killed as many orcs and wargs that his energy would allow, determined to keep his promise to Mithrandir, before one of the wolves of Isengard roughly knocked him off of Hasufel's back. He rose to his feet and considered himself lucky; not many people got up after a warg attacked. His eyes narrowed as he spotted another warg rider and he sprang in attack.  
  
The orc, however, wasn't going to give up without a fight. It managed to stay in its saddle, despite Aragorn's best efforts to pull him off. The ranger lost his balance and fell, only staying on the warg's side because his hand was stuck in the saddle. The orc, seeing his predicament, grabbed him by the throat and pulled him up for a head-butt. Through the pain and daze, one furious thought came into Aragorn's mind: that filthy creature was touching the greenleaf gem! He growled and used his free hand and last remaining strength to heave the orc from the beast's back. He was going to make it taste steel for that!  
  
Unfortunately, his hand was still stuck in the saddle. Struggling to free it, he looked up and saw a cliff looming ahead. The crazed warg was heading straight for it! Images and names flashed through Aragorn's mind as they went over the cliff. As everything went black, his last thoughts were of his lover.  
  
Up top, the battle was over and Rohan was victorious. Watching the remaining orcs and wargs scatter and flee, Legolas realized that someone was missing. "Aragorn?" he called, searching the grounds.  
  
Gimli glanced around; no Aragorn in sight. "Aragorn?" he chimed in, following Legolas as he followed a faint trail left near the cliff's edge. The elf stooped down, examining the ground, when he heard the hideous sound of laughter.  
  
An orc, obviously dying, was choking out laughter. Gimli pulled out his axe. "Tell me what happened and I will ease your suffering," he growled.  
  
"He's...dead," the orc choked out, happily enduring its own pain if it meant that it could inflict suffering on anyone it could. "Took a little tumble off the cliff."  
  
Disbelieving fury filled Legolas. He grabbed the orc by the armor and pulled him up until they were almost nose-to-nose. "You lie," he hissed.  
  
The abominable creature just continued laughing until it choked to death on its own blood. As Legolas let go of the corpse, he noticed a green glint in its hand. _'That can't be what I'm thinking it is,'_ he thought desperately. But it was; it was the greenleaf gem he'd given Aragorn all those years ago. Removing it from the orc's grasp, he stumbled quickly to the cliff's edge.  
  
A worried Gimli followed. "Laddie," he urged gently. "We should stand back a little way."  
  
"Aragorn fell," said Legolas numbly. "He wouldn't have stood for some orc taking this from him." He looked at the gem in one hand and touched the ring around his neck with the other. "I wouldn't let an orc take this ring from me. He gave it to me," he continued, his voice getting more and more hysterical. "I don't want that orc to take his ring from me! Don't let it take him away from me!"  
  
Gimli grabbed his hand and tried to move him away from the edge, but Legolas wouldn't budge. "I won't let anyone take the ring away," he promised. "And no one can ever take him away from you as long as you still love him. Please, let's get away from this ledge."  
  
"Gather all of the wounded and get them on horses. Leave the dead." The king's order sounded harsh to Legolas' ears. He looked up in horror at Theoden as he made his way over to the elf's side. The king placed his hand on Legolas' shoulder and both remembered their brief conversation at Theodred's burial mound. "Come," he said gently before walking away.  
  
"We have to go," urged Gimli, fighting off his own sobs in order to comfort his friend. "We promised Gandalf that we'd stay with them no matter what."  
  
_'Mithrandir,'_ thought Legolas as he allowed Gimli to lead him away from the cliff and coax him onto Arod. Aragorn had fallen just like Mithrandir had, and Mithrandir came back. But Aragorn wasn't a wizard; he was a man, like Boromir. Men die and the light in their eyes goes out. The light that had always been in Aragorn's eyes was gone...  
  
The thought of Aragorn's cold, lifeless eyes caused Legolas to finally break. He crumbled and it was only Gimli's quick reflexes that stopped him from falling off the horse. He clutched the greenleaf gem as he sobbed. Aragorn had promised never to be parted from it as long as he lived. _'But Aragorn no longer lives,'_ he thought miserably. A powerful grief that he didn't even know was possible to feel filled every part of his body as Helm's Deep loomed closer.  
  
To be continued...

_A/N: There's been some question about how old Aragorn is in this story. Since I'm mainly following the movie timeline, he's 87 years old._


	21. Having hope isn't foolish

_A/N: Brego the horse is not in this story (sorry to all of his devoted fans!) He's being omitted because (1) that scene in the movie was about establishing how Eowyn is drawn to Aragorn and doesn't really fit into this story; and (2) I always felt sorry for Hasufel, seeing how he's just dismissed in favor of Brego; if memory serves me right, he was also cast aside without a word in the book version of Return of the King when the rangers brought Aragorn's horse from the North. At the very least he should be allowed to stay in my story._  
  
Eowyn anxiously awaited the arrival of the fighters at Helm's Deep. As she oversaw the organization of what little food and supplies they had a cry came up from the gate: "Make way for Theoden king!" Letting out the tiniest gasp of relief, she rushed to the front of the crowd full of people hoping to see their loved ones returned safely. As the riders came in, her heart sank. "So few," she murmured to her uncle. "So few of you have returned."  
  
"Our people are safe," Theoden told her gruffly, almost succeeding in hiding his grief from her. "We've paid for it with many lives."  
  
Eowyn's blood ran cold at the implication in his tone. With whose life had they'd paid? She looked around frantically, her breath hitching when she saw the elf and dwarf. Legolas sat as still as could be on top of Arod. Some servants and stable-hands were hovering nearby, waiting for the chance to lead the horse away, but one of Legolas' hands gripped the reins so tightly that his knuckles were white. The look on his face was one of pure shock and utter grief.  
  
Gimli had already dismounted and now stood beside Arod. "Let go of the reins," he coaxed gently. "Arod must be attended to and you need to lie down. A little rest might do you some good."  
  
"A little rest," whispered Legolas dully. "Yes, soon I will rest forever."  
  
"I didn't mean it like that!" cried Gimli, alarmed. "Stay with me here. Stay with us, like you promised Mithrandir, remember?"  
  
The White Lady of Rohan approached them hesitantly. "My lady," Gimli said solemnly, "would you send for a healer or anyone who could help?"  
  
Eowyn stared at the elf, transfixed in horror. "Where is Lord Aragorn?" she asked, already knowing but not wanting it to be.  
  
Gimli's voice cracked. "He fell."  
  
Legolas cried out as if Gimli's word had broken him. He was crumbling as he stared at what he was clinging to in his other hand: the gem that Aragorn wore, the one she asked about earlier that day, Eowyn realized. His grip on the reins faltered and he fell in a slide off of the horse's back. Gimli and Eowyn caught him before he hit the ground. "Stay with us laddie," Gimli urged.  
  
"I can't stay in here," sobbed Legolas. "Please open the gates. Please let me out!"  
  
"If we opened the gate," said Gimli, "you'd run right back to that field. Evil things are coming. No. you have to stay safe in here."  
  
"Why?" asked Legolas miserably. "I'd rather be dead beside Aragorn on the green earth then stay in here while I waste away in grief surrounded by stone. Let me out!"  
  
"Perhaps," Eowyn interjected while trying to stop her own tears from falling, "we should go out to the battlements. You and I, Legolas, can look out over the plains while Gimli sees to it that Arod is being taken care of properly."  
  
Legolas suffered himself to be led by the lady to a quiet corner of the battlements. HE stared out at the green grass that stretched out before the fort. "I can't see where Aragorn is," he said. "I can't see anything through my grief."  
  
Eowyn nodded. "It's a long way from the field," she whispered.  
  
He held up the greenleaf gem. "I gave this to him 66 years ago," Legolas murmured, his face scrunching in pain as the memory came to him in full force. "He said he'd never be parted from it as long as he lived."  
  
She felt increasingly helpless as another wretched sob escaped his lips. "He told me that you gave it to him," she said lamely.  
  
"And he gave me this ring," Legolas said softly, pulling out the chain at his neck to reveal the silver ring. "It's a token of his love for me." He looked up at her suddenly. "You love him, don't you?"  
  
Now _there_ was a question she wasn't expecting. "Yes," she told him. He already knew the truth; there was no point in denying it. "Do you resent my feelings?"  
  
"No," said Legolas simply, a look of empathy in his eyes. "It's easy to love Aragorn. I can't fault you for it."  
  
"It's just that he seems to be the only one who believes in me," Eowyn offered in explanation. "I'm not used to people thinking me capable of doing what all women of the Mark can do. Not that my family mistreats me, mind you; they just smother me with protection. I don't know if you can understand this..."  
  
"Overprotection by well-meaning relatives when you know the world is falling apart around you?" mused Legolas. "Not being allowed to join in the battle when you know that your people need every skilled warrior they can get? I understand better than you guess." He fell silent for a moment before continuing. "I don't resent your feelings towards him. I trust Aragorn, and I see that you're not a malicious or deceptive person."  
  
Eowyn looked at him, trying to find something to say that would let him know how much she appreciated his understanding without sounding trite or condescending. Instead she said, "You keep talking about him as if he were still here. Is there some hope that an elf can sense and Men cannot?"  
  
"My fear and doubt tell me to despair," Legolas said. "My heart refuses to accept that he's gone. One cold reality, the other foolish hope. Which should I listen to?"  
  
"Which one will keep you from fading with grief before you know for certain?" Eowyn asked in response.  
  
Legolas gave her a grateful smile before turning his gaze back to the plains. "He still lives; I'll choose to believe that for now," he murmured, closing his eyes. "May the grace of the Valar protect you, meleth, until we can be together again."  
  
_##################  
_  
Pain. Wet. Cold. That 's all Aragorn could feel. Where was he? Lying on his back, it seemed. Was he ill and now resting in bed? No, not unless the bed was made up of sand and small stones. A wave of cold water washed around him again. He was apparently lying on a river's shore. How did he get there? Where was everyone else?  
  
He forced his eyes open and was rewarded by a vision of Legolas' face. _"May the grace of the Valar protect you, meleth, until we can be together again,"_ his voice said, sounding like it was an echo from far away. He could still hear the words all around him when Legolas joined their lips together in a kiss that felt like everything and nothing at the same time. His lover then dissolved before his eyes.  
  
Was it just a dream? Aragorn reached towards the gem at his neck to finger it as he always did when he dreamed of Legolas, but it wasn't there. Where could it be? His memory came crashing back: the scuffle with the orc on the warg, his hand stuck in the creature's saddle, the cliff's edge looming up on him. _'That orc must have pulled the greenleaf gem off of my cloak!'_ he realized in outrage. _'Curse his foul hands!'_ His fury gave way to worry as he remembered the sadness in Legolas' echoing voice. Had he found it? Did Legolas think he was dead? Aragorn had to get to him, now!  
  
However, his body refused to match the strength of his will. Aragorn rolled, trying desperately to get up, but all he would manage to do was wiggle around. For several minutes he continued his futile attempts to rise. Just as he wondered if he'd truly come to the end, heavy footfalls came up beside him. _'Am I about to be rescued or captured?'_ he wondered.  
  
A warm mouth touched his face. Unlike before, this kiss was very much flesh and blood and Aragorn knew exactly from whom it was coming from. "Hasufel," he muttered, trying to roll away.  
  
The horse heard his name and knew his master was alive. He lied down next to the fallen man. Aragorn summoned not his own spent strength but the power of his and Legolas' love and raised his arms, clutching Hasufel's mane. With all that was left in him, he rolled onto the horse's back. Without a sound of command, the horse took off towards Helm's Deep.  
  
Aragorn rode for awhile almost unconscious before slowly rejoining the waking world. Trusting that Hasufel knew the way, she scanned the surrounding land, looking for any sign that something had happened to the refugees. All he found was the rumor of their passing, much to his relief. That feeling was fleeting, though, as he rode to the top of an incline and looked out over the valley below. It was filled with marking uruk-hai. It was Saruman's army, 10,000 at least and heading straight for the fortress. "Noro lim," he urged his horse. "Isengard has been unleashed on the people of Rohan."  
  
Hasufel ran as swiftly as he could, putting as much distance between them and the uruk-hai that he could. Soon Aragorn found himself on another rocky incline, this time looking at the fortress that sheltered the Rohirrim and two of the three hunters. Despite the danger, he smiled. "Hannon lle, Hasufel, mellon nin," he murmured, patting his faithful horse. "Hurry. There is much that I must do before Saruman's army gets here."  
  
To be continued... 


	22. As mortal Men love

The gates opened without Aragorn even having to request entrance. Almost immediately after he rode inside, he and Hasufel were surrounded by an astonished crowd. Murmurs of "he's alive!" were all around him, but the only voice the ranger was interested in one voice that he heard; the one that was the one that was bellowing, "Where is he? I'm going to kill him!"  
  
Gimli broke through the crowed and gaped up at Aragorn. "You are the canniest, bravest, and most reckless man I ever knew," he declared, engulfing the man in a hug. "Bless you, laddie!"  
  
Aragorn indulged in the reunion for only a second. "Gimli," he said urgently, "where is Legolas? And where is the king? I need to see them both."  
  
"The king is in the throne room here," replied Gimli, looking up at him. "The last I knew, Legolas was up in the battlements. You can get to both through the main hallway, but find the elf first and find him soon. That lad seemed to die too when we thought you were gone."  
  
Aragorn took off at once without another word, following the hallway that Gimli pointed out. The thought of marching uruk-hai was gone; that Legolas could be dead right now from grief was the only thing on his mind right now. _"For his love, the Sun Star will die."_ Galadriel's words came into his mind unbidden. Had she foreseen this moment when she told him that? How could he go on knowing that he was responsible for his lover's death?  
  
He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Legolas standing right in front of him until they were only inches apart. The elf had seen Aragorn's arrival from his spot on the battlements. With a quick explanation to Eowyn, asking her to order that the gates be opened, he rushed down as fast as his relief-weakened body would move to find his love. Even though he'd known, or at least stubbornly believed, that Aragorn was still alive, being so close to him again was almost overwhelming. There was so much to say: I love you. I was so afraid. Thank the Valar that you're here with me again. Never leave my side again. "Le abdollen _(You're late)_," he finally said.  
  
Aragorn stared at him and Legolas noticed how ragged and tattered he looked. Blood was caked on his clothing. Mud had dried on his hands. His entire body was cut and bruised. "You look terrible," he said, his voice breaking. "I've never seen a more beautiful sight."  
  
A large smile spread over Aragorn's face. "I was just thinking the same thing," he whispered. The inches between them closed and they kissed passionately and desperately, trying to erase the memories of grief and pain.  
  
The kiss broke. Legolas held out his right hand, revealing the greenleaf gem. "You lost this," he whispered hoarsely.  
  
Aragorn took the jewel, allowing his fingers to give Legolas' hand a lingering squeeze. "Hannon lle," he said. "I was so afraid I'd lost this forever."  
  
Legolas smiled tearfully. "It was not meant for an orc," he said. "It belongs to you, as does my heart and soul."  
  
Aragorn stared at it and then at his lover. "And now it's back where it belongs," he breathed. "We can't stay here, my love; I must talk to the king immediately."  
  
"What's happened?" asked Legolas, alarmed at the change in Aragorn's voice.  
  
"Saruman is sending an army this way," Aragorn told him. "Come; there isn't a moment to lose."  
  
As he turned to follow the man, Legolas' eyes fell on Eowyn standing in the shadows. She gave him a sad but brave smile and he knew she was happy for him, even though his happiness caused her pain. He smiled back in thanks and understanding before he took off.  
  
_#################_  
  
A shadow of fear was on Legolas as he, Aragorn, and Gimli walked among the men - or males at least, for not all were old enough to be considered men - of Rohan as they gathered gear for battle. King Theoden was only sure of two things: that the walls of the fortress could withstand even a large army of uruk-hai with the power and will of Saruman on their side; and that they were alone in the fight. Now, instead of sending for help, he ordered every male from the old and infirmed to young children to arms themselves._ 'Ai, Elbereth,'_ Legolas thought miserably as he stared at a boy who was struggling to hold his sword upright. Some of those boys looked to be the same age that Aragorn had been when they first met...  
  
"These are no soldiers," muttered Aragorn. "Old farmers and stable boys don't make an army no matter how well they're armed."  
  
"Most have seen too many winters," agreed Gimli.  
  
"Or too few," piped in Legolas, still staring at that boy. He turned his gaze to everyone in the room. In his opinion, everyone in there had seen too few winters. "They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."  
  
The room was suddenly quiet, but Legolas couldn't hold it in anymore. "Boe a hyn _(And they should be)_," he continued. "Neled herain dan caer menig _(Three hundred against 10,000)_?"  
  
Aragorn had a desperate look on his face. "Si, beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras _(They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras)_," he insisted, although he knew any hope they had was fading fast.  
  
"Aragorn, nedin dagor hen u-'erir_ (They cannot win this fight.)_," Legolas persisted, fear now evident in his voice. Natha daged dhaer _(They are all going to die!)_!"  
  
Aragorn's patience was gone. Right now was definitely not the time for this! "Then I will die as one of them," he declared angrily. He turned and stalked away, not seeing Legolas' face crumple.  
  
"Let him go, laddie," Gimli advised, squeezing the elf's hand to stop him from chasing after the fuming man.  
  
"Everyone is going to die," Legolas said slowly, almost to himself. "Death is everywhere I look."  
  
Worried, Gimli led Legolas to a quiet corner and, with a little urging, got him to sit on the floor. "Stay here," he ordered gently. "I'm going to find you some armor."  
  
"I've never worn armor before," Legolas answered, his voice sounding far away and fuzzy.  
  
"Now is a good time to start," said Gimli as if he were talking to a spooked child.  
  
After Gimli departed, Legolas was alone with his thoughts. Everyone was going to die; old, young, man, woman, everyone. He thought of Moria, where the dwarves died in chain mail with the axes still in their hands. Would that be how someone would find them one day? The horrifying image of Aragorn's decomposing body still clutching his sword flashed in his mind and despair filled him. He was so wrapped up in his own turmoil that he almost didn't hear three men - one old and the others young - approach.  
  
The men didn't notice him hidden away there. "It was difficult to say good-bye to her, of course," the old man was saying. "45 years isn't long a enough time to spend with the one you love."  
  
"It sounds like a long time to me," said one of the young men. "I've only been married for two years. This isn't how I wanted our life together to end."  
  
"You never know when it will end," the other young man said. "I didn't expect my wife to die so young, but the illness took her anyway."  
  
"I don't think I'd have survived going through what you did," murmured the first young man.  
  
"I didn't think I could do it either," replied the widower. "But what other choice did I have? I couldn't give up living; I could just imagine what she's say to me about that when we meet again beyond this world."

Their conversation continued, but Legolas stopped listening to digest all that he'd overheard. In that hour, when all was at its darkest, the shadow of fear on him departed.  
  
_###############_  
  
Aragorn determinedly readied himself for battle. He would not let Legolas' despair affect him. On when the chain mail, then the vest. How could Legolas not check his words and frighten all that heard? He tightened on his belt, securing his knife around his waist. He thought his lover had left all of that behind in Lothlorien. He tied the ties on his vest. Now all he needed was his sword, but when he turned to pick it up, he got a shock. Legolas was by his side, holding the sword out to him.  
  
"I'm sorry," said the elf. "I was wrong to despair."  
  
Aragorn's anger evaporated as he accepted the sword. "U-moe edared, Legolas _(There is nothing to forgive.)_."  
  
"No," said Legolas. "There is something to forgive and I need you to hear this." He took a deep breath and continued. "Elves promise to love forever because we can keep that promise. Even death is only a temporary separation for us, as elves in the Halls of Mandos are released into Valinor. I have always loved you as an elf loves."  
  
"Men cannot promise forever," he went on. "They have no assurance for eternity. I was afraid, Aragorn; afraid because I didn't want to acknowledge that one day our love in this world will have to end and no one can promise me that we'll be together again. I don't want you to die and I don't want to experience the grief that will come to me when you do, but I do want us to be together for as long as we both have here, even if it's just for one more night. Our love is stronger than even my worst fear. I'll love you for as long as I have to live and will have faith that there is more than shadow and memory beyond death. I understand now and can be strong enough to love you as mortal Men love."  
  
Aragorn, daring not to trust his voice at the moment, reached out to Legolas. He caressed his love's lips with his fingertips as if he could feel the words that Legolas had just spoken. The elf didn't move, but let out a sigh and let his eyes flutter shut. Legolas knew the grief that would come with his death and believed their love was worth any pain...  
  
A crash at the door made him draw his hand back. Gimli stood there, wearing a coat of mail that pooled around his feet. "It's a little tight across the chest," he groused.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged amused glances, but any response they might have made to this was cut off by a horn blow in the distance. "That is no orc horn," Legolas informed them.  
  
_#################  
_  
Legolas walked through the land littered with dead bodies. May Rohirrim had perished in the battle. The host of elves from Lothlorien who had come unbidden to their aid were now in Mandos' Halls. But they'd won the battle. Rohan still survived because of the bravery of everyone who fought. He focused on that as he sought out Gimli; they had a score to settle.  
  
He found the dwarf sitting on the body of a dead uruk-hai and smoking hip pipe. "Final count," Legolas announced, fingering his bow, "42."  
  
"42?" repeated Gimli. "That's not bad for a pointy-eared elvish princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on 43."  
  
Quick as ever, Legolas hauled out his bow and fired an arrow between Gimli's legs and into the uruk. "43," he said triumphantly.  
  
"He was already dead."  
  
"He was twitching."  
  
"He was twitching," exclaimed Gimli in annoyance, "because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" He gave his axe a good shake and the orc did indeed twitch.  
  
Legolas laughed. "That's like a morbid child's toy," he observed, lunging forward and grabbing the axe handle. "Let me try it!"  
  
"Never touch a dwarf's axe!" scolded Gimli. He grabbed Legolas' hands and froze. "Laddie, do you feel well?"  
  
"Well enough," Legolas answered, confused. "Elves don't get sick, you know."  
  
"Are you sure about that? asked Gimli with concern. He rubbed Legolas' hands with his own. "Your hands are cold."  
  
To be continued...

_Remember that scene between Elrond and Arwen in Return of the King? _:) _Another evil cliffhanger..._


	23. All that a father can do

_Meanwhile in Rivendell...  
_  
Elrond was sitting at a table in Rivendell studying a book of lore and just enjoying the beauty of the day when he sensed someone approaching from behind. He sighed inwardly; so much for his reading. It was Erestor, most likely, needing his attention on some household manner. Or else it was Glorfindel wanting to discuss the valley's defenses during this uncertain time. Maybe it was one of the twins, though he thought that unlikely as they were still resting after their return of the southern border patrol. He doubted it was Bilbo since the old hobbit rarely left his room anymore. Resigning himself to handle whatever problem that had occurred, Elrond turned and got the shock of his life.  
  
King Thranduil of Mirkwood stood before him. It looked like he'd run a long way; his cheeks were red and his golden hair was filled with tangles and knots. Elrond's heart dropped when at the expression on his face: he looked as if he wasn't trying to show how much pain he was in after someone punched him in the stomach. "Has Narsil been reforged?" Thranduil demanded, not bothering with any formalities or explanations. "Does Aragorn have the sword of the kings?"  
  
"How did you get here?" asked a baffled Elrond.  
  
"Gwaihir the Windlord bore me here at Galadriel's request," he replied hurriedly. "Now answer my question: does Aragorn have the sword of the kings?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?!"  
  
Elrond's face flushed. "What business is that of yours?" he snapped. How dare Thranduil just barge into his realm and ask about things that weren't supposed to be common knowledge?  
  
"It is time that he had it," Thranduil insisted softly. "You need to give him Narsil reforged."  
  
"Oh, must I?" hissed Elrond sarcastically. This was getting ridiculous! "That would make Estel a nice primary target for the enemy, wouldn't it? That would solve your problems. He'd have to stay away from your son if he were dead."  
  
Thranduil's face pinched as the pain he'd been holding back came through in full force. "Legolas is the reason why I came," he said, sounding defeated. "Aragorn needs Narsil if he is to become king and restore the kingdoms of Men. Then they can be together in splendor and peace."  
  
"Why the sudden change of heart?" asked Elrond disbelievingly. "Why is a future with Estel suddenly what you want for Legolas?"  
  
"Legolas is mortal now," Thranduil told him, breaking down in sobs. He knew but saying it out loud made it feel all the more real and the pain was almost unbearable.  
  
"What?" gasped Elrond, helping the devastated elf to a seat at the table. "How can this be?"  
  
Thranduil sucked in some air, trying to steady himself enough to answer. "I found out two days ago," he choked out. "Gwaihir brought Galadriel to Mirkwood..."  
  
_Flashback  
  
Thranduil was constantly busy dealing with the orc attacks on his realm as well as on the town of Dale and the Lonely Mountain. Any second not spent on defenses was devoted to worrying about his Little Greenleaf. How he wished he had some news on his son's well being and whereabouts! No, how he wished Legolas had never left Rivendell on some suicide mission to Mordor. What had he been thinking, sending his son to that council in the first place?  
  
The attacks were occupying every realm and under normal circumstances no one, especially not a ruler could be spared. That was one of the main reasons why Thranduil hadn't sent a troop out to retrieve his errant - and still underaged - son. That was also why the king was stunned when Galadriel showed up in Mirkwood on the back of a great eagle. He searched his mind for any reason urgent enough for her to come; she surely didn't expect that he could spare any troops for Lothlorien's defense!  
  
"Mae govannen, Galadriel," he said, smiling with guarded politeness.  
_  
_She looked at him with those penetrating eyes. "Mae govannen," she replied. "I have come to tell you of things that happened and cannot be undone."  
  
The smile froze on his face. "What things?"  
  
"Your child -"  
  
"Legolas?" he interrupted frantically. The defense of his forest was suddenly unimportant - he was sending a troop out and if the entire realm burnt to the ground in the process, so be it. "What has happened to my Little Greenleaf? Has he been captured? Did the servants of the enemy do anything do him? Has he come to grief? Please tell me what has happened and where he is now! I will get him to a healer and if that doesn't help, I will take him to Valinor to recover."  
  
"You cannot take him there," she said gravely. "The Blessed Realm no longer offers a haven to Legolas."  
  
Thranduil's blood ran cold. ""What are you talking about?" he said in a shushed tone.  
_  
_"Legolas is bonded to Aragorn now," she told him. "For his love he must forfeit his immortality. You know this must be the consequence of their love."  
  
"I forbad them to marry!" snarled Thranduil, shaking with wrath. "Or has that man simply seduced my child and conquered him out of wedlock? Oh, I will see that, that Man disemboweled and beheaded for this! I'll burn Gondor to the ground, and any other realm that stands by that murderer!"  
  
"Calm yourself!" scolded Galadriel. "They are not married, nor have they joined intimately. Do you think that is all that is required to create a bond of this magnitude? Nay, Thranduil; you can control who he marries and even who he is physically intimate with, but not who he loves. It is because of his love that he is mortal now."  
  
"He's loved Aragorn for years," protested Thranduil, irrationally hoping that his arguments would somehow reverse what had happened. "Why has he suddenly lost his immortality now?"  
  
"Because now he knows what it means to love a mortal," answered Galadriel. "He did not understand before. He could not, as he only had a vague notion of death and what it means for those who are not of the eldar race. Now he has seen death with his own eyes and experienced the grief of losing someone he loves. He knows what is asked of one who must love as Men_ _love and he has chosen to do so. That is why the bond has been forged."  
  
Thranduil sunk to his knees, overwhelmed with her news and what the implications were. "I am sorry for you," she continued, looking at him with deep sympathy. "But there is nothing anyone can do to change this. Whether by your will or no, there is no ship now that can bear him hence."  
  
End flashback  
  
_Elrond fell back in his seat, amazed and dismayed by Thranduil's account.  
  
"My son is now bound to this land no matter what happens," said the king. "If that must be the case then I want to make sure he has everything here. I know Aragorn is an honorable man and any objection I had to him and their relationship before is moot now. I want them to have the future they've dreamed of and reforging Narsil is key to getting it."  
  
"I can't," said Elrond desperately. "I'm sorry about Legolas, but I can't do that to Estel. If he carries that sword, Sauron will know he is Isildur's heir and he'll be dead."  
  
"If Sauron is to fall, the world of Men needs its king," responded Thranduil. He smiled sadly at Elrond and empathy shone from his eyes. "I know you want to protect your son, but he is as bound to this land as mine is. You can't save him from himself; believe me about that."

He could see that Elrond's resistance was breaking. "And since we cannot give them Valinor," Thranduil continued, "can we not at least try to give them a chance to live life without the dominion of the enemy?"  
  
Elrond nodded as the rest of his protests died in him. "It is time."  
  
_##############_  
  
Metal clanged as the elven smiths hammered the shards of Narsil. Just beyond the smithy stood a thoughtful-looking Elrond and Thranduil, who was lost in thoughts of despair.  
  
"My brother Elros chose to be mortal," Elrond said suddenly.  
  
"I know," replied Thranduil hoarsely. "He was the first king of the Numenoreans. Aragorn is a descendant of his."  
  
"He built up the splendor of Numenor and then died," Elrond told him. "He didn't have to see it sink and the pride and dignity of his line almost die out. He didn't have to see the futility of his victories over evil. He doesn't have to lose three children to the mortality that I know in my heart that Elrohir and Elladan will chose. With each passing year and grief I feel more and more like he made the better choice when he chose to belong to the race of Men."  
  
Thranduil didn't say anything at first. "He will pass away from this world," he finally said. "We'll lose them all, even beyond the world's ending."  
  
"I don't know about that," whispered Elrond hopefully. "Eru isn't cruel. I can't believe we'll be forever separated from those we love. We must have faith that when we are all called to come together and since the great song we will see our children again." Thranduil replied only with a small, weak smile.  
  
"Excuse me, excuse me," called out a voice. Thranduil and Elrond turned to see Bilbo rushing towards them as fast as his age would allow.  
  
"Bilbo!" exclaimed Elrond. "I'm surprised to see you out and about."  
  
"I heard that King Thranduil was here," explained Bilbo. "I just had to come and apologize for not coming to visit." He turned his attention to the wood elf. "Greetings Elvenking! I'm delighted to see you again."  
  
"Hello Bilbo." Thranduil tried to sound cheerful, but his voice came out strained.  
  
Bilbo frowned. "Why so glum?"  
  
"I'm worried about my son," he told the old hobbit sadly.  
  
"Legolas?" asked Bilbo. I met him here, when he came for the council. Such a good boy! He's in love with my friend the Dunedan." He paused, considering. "Is that why you're worried?"  
  
Thranduil didn't think he had the strength to explain it all again so he only replied, "Yes."  
  
"Well, I suppose it's a father's duty to worry about his child," offered Bilbo fondly. "Let me put your fears to rest now. The Dunedan - Aragorn, if you will - has been my dear friend for many years. He saved my heir Frodo from those Black Riders single-handedly at Weathertop. You have my word that he is a good man. Why, one only has to look at the two of them together to know that they love each other with all that they are. Don't worry; he will always be true and noble in his words and actions. I know it so well that I made it into a poem:

_All that is gold does not glitter,  
Not all those who wander are lost;  
The old that is strong does not wither,  
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."_  
  
He paused again, this time to search his memory. "Oh fiddlesticks. I forgot the rest!"  
  
"I remember it," said Elrond. He took a deep breath and recited as the clanging in the background continued:  
  
_From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
A light from the shadows shall spring;  
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,  
The crownless again shall be king._  
  
To be continued...  
  
_We'll get back to Aragorn and Legolas in the next chapter, I promise!_  
  
_A/N: Chapter 22 was this story's most reviewed chapter yet! Thanks to all of my reviewers! I got a couple of questions too that I'll answer now:  
  
(1) There was a little more confusion about Aragorn's age and how he could be 87 years old. He is NOT immortal; rather, he's a Dunedain (a race of Man that descended from the Numenorians) and those particular Men have longer lives. In the book, Aragorn lived to be almost 200 years old. If he's going to live to be that old then 87 for him would be like early-to-mid 40's for a normal human (the age Viggo Mortensen was when the movies were made). There's a scene in the extended version of The Two Towers that gets into this a little.  
  
(2) There's been some question about why the people of Middle Earth are so comfortable with two males loving each other. Quite honestly, I never wanted to put something like homophobia in this. To do it, I'd have to elevate another character's importance so that it would mean something more than a minor annoyance since Legolas and Aragorn's love is strong enough to withstand the prejudices of people they don't really know. I only want emphasize the supporting characters that I like (such as Gimli and Eowyn). There's plenty of - and more valid - conflicts and objections to the romance in Legolas and Aragorn's fears and guilt and in Thranduil's worries without adding random hate. Long story short, the people of Middle Earth are open-minded and have bigger things to worry about.  
_


	24. What is owed

_A/N: Before we get started, I forgot to give credit where credit is due in the last chapter. The poem that Bilbo and Elrond recited was lifted straight out of The Fellowship of the Ring, from the chapter called "Strider". It was, of course, writted by J.R.R. Tolkien, although Biblo takes credit for it in the books._ :)

Legolas stood on the landing of the outer stairs outside of Meduseld and stared out at the surrounding plains. It was night and inside the Golden Hall there was a celebration that he really should have been attending. After all there was much to celebrate. Merry and Pippin had been safely recovered from Isengard and were now back in their care. Saruman and the traitorous Wormtongue were imprisoned in Orthanc, under the watchful guard of the Ents. Now there were warriors, both living and dead, to pay tribute to. Hope had been restored to Rohan, thanks to their bravery and the victory at Helm's Deep.  
  
Helm's Deep, it seemed, was the place where a lot things changed. He ran his thumbs across the tips of his fingers. They were still cool, though not as cold as they had been that day on the battlefield. On the day the life of the eldar had left him. He thought about going to Mithrandir to get some kind of conformation, but there was no reason to. Legolas knew in his heart that he was mortal now. Only a week or two ago that thought would have made him tremble with fear. Now he accepted it, bitter and sweet, as the only way he could truly be with Aragorn.  
  
Thinking of Aragorn stirred another internal debate: should he tell his lover about this turn of events? Legolas had bound himself to Aragorn without even knowing it. He couldn't imagine the ranger hating him or turning him away, but that was little comfort. What if Aragorn was resentful of the fact that the bond had been forged without his consent? He couldn't bear to one day look into the eyes of the Man he loved and see only bitterness about the obligation he would feel to stay in the relationship, no matter what. _'Don't do this now!'_ Legolas told himself firmly. _'There is no reason to doubt Aragorn's love now.'  
_  
Besides, there was the war in the east to consider. Now wasn't really the time to complicate their quest any more than it already was. There was a great enough burden on Aragorn already with the spreading shadow and the malevolence in the east. Legolas knew that, once he knew about his mortality, Aragorn would blame himself for what had - and will - happened. The man needed to go into combat with a clear mind, not with the guilt of Legolas' eventual death adding to the load.  
  
While Legolas argued with himself, the celebration inside had ended. The last few days had been emotionally draining for Aragorn. He'd lost dear friends at Helm's Deep. By the Valar, did rejoining the world of Men mean that his past life with the elves had to die? Being just now faced with Eowyn trying to control her feelings for him and Mithrandir's fears for Frodo and Sam's well being had pushed him almost to the edge. He needed a little time and space. Fingering his long-neglected pipe, he decided to head outside to smoke.  
  
He took a deep breath as he stepped out onto the landing and caught sight of Legolas. Aragorn had been surprised when his lover didn't show up at all during the festivities. Of course, he wasn't used to the rowdy celebrations of the Rohirrim, but he assumed the elf would have at least come to observe the tribute to the fallen soldiers. What had kept him away? _'My pipe's waited this long,'_ he decided. _'It can wait a little while longer.'  
_  
Legolas made no move or sound of acknowledgment when Aragorn walked up beside him. "What troubles you, meleth?" asked Aragorn with concern.  
  
"The stars are veiled," answered Legolas tensely. "Something stirs in the east; a sleepless mass." They exchanged a glance and Aragorn grew even more worried when he saw the elf's troubled eyes. Legolas quickly looked away. "The eye of the enemy is moving."  
  
"That's not all you're worrying about," observed Aragorn. "The eye of the enemy is always moving and searching. That alone wouldn't keep you from the tribute to the men and elves that died."  
  
"Aragorn, I -" Legolas' voice broke off. He took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "I love you so much."  
  
Were those tears in the elf's eyes? "And I love you," Aragorn told him, cupping his cheek. "You can tell me anything."  
  
Legolas kissed the palm against his face. "There is something you must know," he whispered, feeling his resolve breaking.  
  
"What is it?" begged Aragorn.  
  
Legolas opened his mouth to answer and was hit with a feeling such as he'd never felt before. The closest comparisons he could make were the feeling of impending doom he felt in Moria when the balrog came and at Amon Hen as the shadow and threat grew on his mind. The overwhelming dread and fear now could only mean one thing. "They eye of the enemy," he gasped. "Aragorn, he is here!"  
  
"The palantir," Aragorn realized in horror. "That's how he and Saruman communicated and now it's here."  
  
"The hobbits!" cried Legolas, grabbing his arm. "He might see them and think one of them is the ringbearer. Come!"  
  
They raced through the halls of Meduseld to where the remnants of the fellowship and a few others were quartered for the night. Throwing the door open, they were greeted with a horrifying sight: Pippin was clutching the glowing palantir with both hands. His little body was writhing in agony. Aragorn lunged forward and grabbed the orb, his mind focused solely on freeing the hobbit from the enemy's torture. The effect was immediate; Aragorn went rigid. He was suddenly in Barad-dur, standing before someone he couldn't quite see...  
  
Legolas grabbed his lover's arms as he staggered back. He had to dislodge the palantir from his grip, but Aragorn wasn't letting go! The man collapsed, half-pulling Legolas to the floor with him. Any bumps and bruises either of them received was worth it, though as the seeing stone was finally jarred from Aragorn's grasp. It rolled across the floor, exposing who-knows-what to the enemy until Mithrandir threw his gray cloak over it.  
  
"Fool of a Took!" shouted the irate wizard.  
  
"Are you all right?" Legolas asked Aragorn.  
  
"I think so," responded Aragorn as Legolas pulled him to his feet. "I don't think I was there long enough for him to see me. Pippin..."  
  
They both turned to Pippin. The poor hobbit was lying motionless on the floor. His eyes were open and unseeing, giving him the eerie look of a corpse. Mithrandir placed his hand over Pippin's face and mumbled a few words. The words apparently had the desired effect: Pippin gasped and started to revive. When his eyes fell on the wizard, he burst into tears. "Gandalf, forgive me," he begged, looking away in shame.  
  
"Look at me," demanded Mithrandir. "What did you see?"  
  
"I saw a white tree in a courtyard of stone," Pippin told him as he struggled to control his terror. "It was dead."  
  
Aragorn hung his head as Pippin recounted his visions and the horrible encounter with Sauron. He had been strong enough not to give the enemy his name, nor tell him anything about Frodo's quest. Having experienced the power of the palantir himself, Aragorn knew what courage that had taken. But his visions of a burning Minas Tirith were devastating; the White Tree, one of the very symbols of the kingship of his line, was dead. How was he going to save and renew something that was already dead? He clasped Legolas' hand and wondered why it felt so cool.  
  
_##################_  
  
"By some strange stroke of fortune," Mithrandir announced the next morning to an audience that included the remaining members of the fellowship and Theoden, "Pippin's foolishness has given us a glimpse of the enemy's plans. He is going to strike at the city of Minas Tirith."  
  
The wizard turned his gaze to Aragorn. "Saruman's defeat at Helm's Deep showed him one thing," he continued grimly. "He knows that Isildur's heir is still alive. He fears that, as he cannot right the Men of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne." Mithrandir turned his gaze to Theoden and his voice was lace with urgency: "When the beacons are lit, Rohan must be ready."  
  
"Tell me," the king responded petulantly, "why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"  
  
Aragorn stared at him with anger and disbelief. He thought Theoden was over his martyr complex by now! "I will go," he vowed.  
  
"No!" Mithrandir told him.  
  
"They must be warned!" shot back Aragorn. His future with Legolas, his promise to Boromir, the freedom of Middle Earth - it all seemed to be slipping away.  
  
Mithrandir stepped close to him. "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road," he said in a low voice. "Look to the mountains and the black ships." With one last meaningful glance at Aragorn, he raised his voice for all to hear. "Understand this," he announced. "Things have been set in motion that cannot be undone. I ride now for Minas Tirith. And I won't be going alone," he added with a Look at Pippin.  
  
With a swish of his robes and a "Come, Peregrin Took!" Mithrandir left the throne room with the hobbits at his heels. The Men of Rohan, except the king, quickly dispersed and Gimli followed them out, hoping to get some food. Aragorn sighed. "I suppose we should go and make sure Merry will be all right," he said to Legolas.  
  
When Legolas didn't respond, he turned and saw him staring at Theoden. His face was passive, but Aragorn knew the look in his eyes. He'd first seen it at the age of ten on the archery field all while Elladan thought he could easily best his little brother in a shooting contest.. Legolas' mind was churning and he was getting ready to strike. "My love?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"Go," said Legolas, not taking his eyes of Theoden. "Make sure Merry doesn't try to follow them to Gondor. I'll be there in a moment."  
  
Aragorn nodded and took off after the hobbits. Theoden, for his part, didn't seem to notice Legolas' stare. He still had his eyes on the door Mithrandir had passed through. "It does not become a king to pout," Legolas informed him.  
  
That got the king's attention. He turned his glare on the elf. "Pardon me?" he asked in that condescending tone that Legolas hated.  
  
"You heard what I said," Legolas told him simply. "And your attitude doesn't become a king either."  
  
"I have never been spoken to like this before," Theoden growled.  
  
If his intentions were to intimidate Legolas into silence, he was wasting his breath. "Is that the problem?" he asked. "Well, allow me to rectify that now."  
  
"I won't tolerate this in my own throne room!" warned Theoden.  
  
"Yes, you will," replied Legolas firmly as he stepped forward. "What do you owe Gondor, you ask? Do you blame them for not riding to your aid when you sent out no word that you needed help?"  
  
"They knew," Theoden insisted stubbornly. "How could they not see our enemies closing in around us?"  
  
"You are not willing to ride to their aid without them having done something for you first and yet you think they should have come to your aid under those circumstances?" asked Legolas. He charged ahead without bothering to wait for an answer. "These times call for loyalty and leadership, not childish games! You should count yourself lucky that not all the free peoples of Middle Earth hold themselves to your rules. What did the elves owe Rohan?"  
  
Theoden's face flushed. "That's not -"  
  
"Not what?" interrupted Legolas sharply. "Not the point? Not the same? No, I suppose it's not. After all, the elves are leaving Middle Earth. They could have departed and left you to your doom, and instead they stayed to help and were slain for their troubles. There are more direct and less painful ways to get to Valinor than by the weapons of an uruk-hai."  
  
Theoden looked down. "Do you think," Legolas continued, "that Rohan will be unaffected by what happens to Gondor? If Gondor falls, so will your people. Why do you want to make it easier for Sauron to win by letting him fight his enemies one at a time?"  
  
"Is there anything else, Master Elf?" asked Theoden icily.  
  
"Yes," said an undaunted Legolas. "Don't ask what Gondor owes you. Think instead of what you owe Aragorn and Mithrandir. Aragorn is the heir to the throne of Gondor and yet you are refusing to help his kingdom after he saved yours. Mithrandir saved you twice, first from Wormtongue and then by bringing Eomer to Helm's Deep when you refused to do so yourself. He's worked long and hard to stop the enemy and doesn't need you hindering his efforts by refusing to do your part."  
  
"I am the king of Rohan -"  
  
"Then act like it," asserted Legolas. "I may not be king of Rohan, but the king of Mirkwood taught me in words and actions that one needs to put aside one's childish impulses and do things they don't want to do for the sake of station and their people. Let me pass on my father's lessons to you: stop acting like a martyr and do what you have to do to save your people."  
  
With that, Legolas spun around and followed Aragorn's path out of the room, leaving Theoden behind to ponder his words.  
  
To be continued...


	25. Waiting

"I still can't believe you said all of that to him," Aragorn told Legolas a few days later as they and Gimli sat on the steps of an Edoras look-out tower. They'd been occupying that spot for the better part of the last few days since Mithrandir and Pippin left, hoping to see the beacon on the overlooking mountain light up.  
  
"For my part," Gimli declared, "I'm glad someone finally said it. I just wish it had been me."  
  
Legolas laughed. "I'm sure you would've told him may good things, friend Gimli," he conceded. "And if you had, you would probably now be in the dungeons getting a well-earned rest from the quest. Aragorn, Merry, and I would be visiting you at every mealtime."  
  
Gimli snorted. "I could have done it without losing my temper," he protested confidently.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas just stared at him for a moment. "So," Aragorn said finally, searching for a safe topic. "Does anyone know where Merry is? I haven't seen him since breakfast."  
  
"He's down at the stable with Eowyn and that pony," smiled Legolas. "She's been teaching him how to ride."  
  
"I'm glad she's been able to keep his mind off of things since Pippin left," said Aragorn. "She's really taken a shine to him, hasn't she?"  
  
"Funny," chuckled Gimli. "She never struck me as the maternal type."  
  
"I don't think her fondness towards our young hobbit friend has anything to do with maternal urging," mused Aragorn. "It's more that she understands what he's going through."  
  
"Eowyn's definitely been in his position before," agreed Legolas. "Overlooked and underestimated because of something beyond your control. Left behind while everyone you love is going into danger."  
  
"With nothing to do except wait for a signal," sighed Aragorn, glancing towards the mountains where the beacon remained unlit.  
  
"Aragorn," said Legolas gently, "there's no need to worry yet. Even riding Shadowfax, they couldn't have come to the White City any earlier than yesterday. Give Mithrandir some time to convince Denethor to call for aid."  
  
"If Denethor is anything like he was the last time I was in Minas Tirith that will never happen," said Aragorn grimly. "He's a proud man with little trust in or love for Mithrandir."  
  
"If anyone can do it, he can," asserted Legolas. "He has to." He ran his thumbs over his fingertips. "He has to," he repeated in a whisper.  
  
"Legolas, lad," said Gimli suddenly and a little too casually. "Let's go down to the stables. We can check on Merry and you can yell at that Arod for nearly biting off my hand the other day.

"What?" Legolas asked in confusion.

"You remember," stressed Gimli, giving him a meaningful look. "Just the other day in the stables. I need you to take a walk down there with me - so you can scold that horse for biting me."  
  
Legolas knew that incident never took place, but was willing to follow Gimli's lead. "It's your own fault," he said as they both rose to his feet. "I told you to offer him the carrot, not try to guide it down his throat. You can't blame Arod for not putting up with your ineptitude. When a horse wants to eat something, you should let it go."  
  
"Maybe I should go too," said Aragorn, his eyes glancing to the beacon once more.  
  
"You want to stay here," replied Gimli. "Legolas and I will be fine. I can't say the same for a certain blasted horse."  
  
"Watch for the signal," advised Legolas. "Smoke your pipe." The elf smiled at the surprised look on Aragorn's face. "I've seen you fingering that thing for days. I just ask that you wait until I'm down the hill before you light that awful-smelling weed."  
  
"Hurry then," grinned Aragorn as he playfully shoved him away.  
  
Gimli was silent and didn't join in Legolas' laughter as they walked towards the stables. He waited until they were a good distance from Aragorn before he spoke. "What's wrong with you, laddie?" he asked.  
  
"What's wrong with me?" repeated Legolas, hoping that Gimli would think he sounded surprised only because he thought the question was ridiculous. After all, the dwarf didn't _know_ anything about what happened. "Nothing's wrong, Gimli."  
  
"Don't lie to me," scolded Gimli, grabbing Legolas' hands. "You keep rubbing your hands. Don't deny it. They're still cool, too; at least cooler than they were before Helm's Deep. Are you sure you're not ill?"  
  
Legolas yanked his hands out of the dwarf's grasp. "I'm fine, Gimli," he got out through gritted teeth. "There are more important things to fret about than the temperature of my hands."  
  
"Very well then," said Gimli. "If you won't tell me I'll just describe your symptoms to Aragorn. He's been trained in the healing arts of the elves. Perhaps he can let me know what's going on."  
  
"No, don't!" cried Legolas in panic. The last thing he needed was for Aragorn to learn about his mortality from Gimli's interference!  
  
Gimli looked at him and Legolas' mood softened at the look of worry and confusion in them. "Tell me what's wrong with you," Gimli urged firmly.  
  
"I don't know how it happened," Legolas said, searching for the right words. "I just know that - I wasn't going to say anything yet - I'm -"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm mortal now," whispered Legolas. "I have been since Helm's Deep."  
  
"What?" asked a shocked Gimli. "How could that happen?"  
  
"It was going to happen anyway," explained Legolas. "In order to bind myself to Aragorn, I would've had to forfeit my immortality at some point. I don't know why it's happened now, but it has. That's why my hands are cool: the life of the eldar has left me."  
  
Gimli sifted through the many questions on his mind and settle on one. "Does Aragorn know?"  
  
"No," answered Legolas, "and you cannot tell him."  
  
"You can't go through this alone!" burst out Gimli. "He needs to know. He deserves to know."  
  
"He will know," promised Legolas anxiously. "Just not right now. Not while we're waiting to go to war and hoping the king will lead his people along with us. I'm afraid that if he knew he'd do something rash."

"Don't choose to suffer alone -"

"I'm not suffering," interrupted Legolas in a shaking voice. "This is just a lot to deal with, but I'm handling it fine. I just don't want to burden Aragorn with yet another worry, especially one that he can't do anything about."  
  
"It's not my place to tell him," said Gimli begrudgingly. "But you should do so as soon as possible. He needs to know what's at stake before everything begins. Don't try to protect him from the truth."  
  
"Legolas! Gimli!" a voice called out. The duo turned to see Merry waving from the back of his pony Stybba as he trotted around a small field by the stables. "Look at me! I'm a rider!"  
  
"Very good, Merry!" Legolas called back.  
  
"The White Lady of Rohan is an excellent teacher," said Gimli, smiling kindly at Eowyn.  
  
"That she is," agreed Legolas.  
  
"Well," said Eowyn with a small but proud smile, "he and Stybba are a good match in both spirit and stature. A rider of Rohan must, of course, be able to ride into battle."  
  
"He is in the service of the king now," said Legolas, recalling Merry's impulsive pledge to Theoden. "Would King Theoden give him leave to do so?"  
  
"There is no reason why Merry can't fight," Eowyn insisted firmly. "My uncle has no right to deny him the chance for renown on the battlefield. His cousin has gone of to a city that is about to be besieged if it hasn't been already. Two of his people are heading to Mordor as we speak! He would be ashamed if he were left behind."  
  
Legolas looked at her thoughtfully, knowing full well that she wasn't just talking about the hobbit. "Has the king made a decision yet?"  
  
"I don't know," answered Eowyn curtly. "He wouldn't talk to me about it if he had. I don't see what else he could do, though. Any simpleton can see that Rohan must go to war if the realm is to survive."  
  
"I hope he sees it your way" muttered Gimli lowly so she couldn't hear.  
  
"If we don't go," continued Eowyn, "then there will be no victory or peace for us no matter who the victor is. If the enemy triumphs, he'll spread his darkness and his armies all over the plains. If Gondor wins, they'll remember that we didn't honor the vow that Eorl took all those years ago when the king of Gondor granted him these lands to dwell in."  
  
"Let's leave Merry to his riding," suggested Legolas. "We could go to the throne room. Your brother's there, my lady -"  
  
"Eowyn," she interrupted. "I think we've been through enough together and understand each other well enough for you to call me Eowyn, Legolas."  
  
"Thank you, Eowyn," he said. "Anyway, I'm sure you and your brother have a lot to talk about. Maybe we could even learn more about King Theoden's decision."  
  
"An excellent suggestion," chimed in Gimli.  
  
"Let's go," nodded Eowyn. "But I'm sure my uncle won't say anything until he has to. I don't think we'll have anything to worry about when the time come, though. He may be hesitating now, but he knows the truth of the situation. You'll see; everything will be revealed when the beacons are lit."  
  
"Yes," murmured Legolas, unconsciously rubbing his fingertips again. He was keenly aware of Gimli's eyes on him. "When the beacons are lit, many things will have to be revealed."  
  
To be continued...


	26. Personal stakes

Aragorn bent over to examine the pipe he'd been smoking. _'If for nothing else,'_ he decided wryly, _'hobbits should be praised for discovering the use of pipeweed.'_ Just being able to sit back and enjoy his pipe had helped him relax a little while the world around him seemed filled with uncertainty. Like whether or not Mithrandir could convince Denethor to light the beacons and if Theoden would answer if he did. And the future of Gondor and all of Middle Earth, if it even did have a future. Whether Frodo and Sam were still alive and free. And, foremost on his mind, what was wrong with Legolas.  
  
He sighed. Legolas had been acting strange ever since the battle at Helm's Deep. Gimli must have noticed it too; Aragorn was sure that's why he wanted to talk to the elf alone. He was distant, but not in a way that would indicate that he wanted to end their relationship. Rather, he seemed troubled by something and was worried about what the man's reaction would be to it. It bothered Aragorn that Legolas was so hesitant to confide in him. _'What could be so terrible that he's afraid to tell me about it?'_ he wondered.  
  
A sudden flame erupting on the mountain's peak drew Aragorn out of his musings and worries. The beacons were lit. Mithrandir had succeeded! The wait was finally over and the time for action had begun. He spun around and dashed to Meduseld, taking three stairs at a time to the doorway. "The beacons of Minas Tirith are lit!" he cried as he entered the throne room.  
  
All activity ceased as everyone stared. Aragorn skidded to a stop in front of the king. "The beacons are lit," he reiterated, gasping for breath. "Gondor calls for aid."  
  
Theoden looked as if he were at a loss for words. He glanced at Eowyn's apprehensive but hopeful face to Aragorn's tense-with-anticipation expression before his eyes fell on Legolas. The elf wore the same expression that Thranduil had when the next words out of his mouth were: _"I expect you to do what you must do, Little Greenleaf."_ Knowing what the right thing to do was, Theoden steeled his resolve. "And Rohan will answer," he declared. He turned to Eomer. "Muster the Rohirrim."  
  
The Men of Rohan left the room in a frenzy of activity. The sounds of shouting and bells ringing could be heard clearly from outside. Aragorn turned to his lover. Legolas smiled eagerly at him and for the first time in days he felt hopeful again.  
  
Eowyn watched the look that the lovers exchanged and felt her heart break a little. "I should let Merry know what's going on," she said quickly as she exited the room. She respected both Legolas and his relationship with Aragorn, but that didn't make it any easier to watch them together.  
  
Legolas watched her go. "Poor Eowyn," he said, sympathy evident in his voice. "She's had such a difficult time as of late. I'm glad she can find some comfort in mentoring our young hobbit out there."  
  
"How's his riding coming along?" asked Aragorn, remembering again how Legolas and Gimli had slipped off to talk.  
  
"He looks to be a proper esquire of Rohan," replied Legolas proudly.  
  
"Is that all you and Gimli did this morning?" asked Aragorn.  
  
Legolas let out a nervous laugh. "Aragorn!" he scolded teasingly. "Are you jealous?"  
  
Aragorn ignored Gimli's snort of disapproval. "No, it's not that," he said, slightly taken aback. "I was just wondering if you did anything but go down to the stables."  
  
"What else would we have been doing?" asked Legolas, sounding a little too innocent. He was starting to get rattled by Aragorn's questioning. Gimli wouldn't have said anything to him about his mortality, so why was he so suspicious?  
  
"I know you Legolas," replied Aragorn firmly. "Something weighs heavily on your mind. Gimli's noticed to and that's why he made up that story about Arod; he wanted to talk to you alone."  
  
"Aragorn-"  
  
"Please," interrupted Aragorn. "There is nothing in this world that you can't tell me."  
  
Legolas was decidedly uncomfortable and torn. He glanced at Gimli, who - though he didn't know it - wore the same expression that the elf had been giving to Theoden. "I will tell you," he finally promised Aragorn with a heavy sigh. "Just not yet. You need to concentrate on the muster."  
  
Aragorn looked ready to protest but was silenced by Legolas' gentle kiss on the lips. "Please trust me," the elf begged. "I'll tell you everything at the encampment."  
  
"I do trust you," vowed Aragorn. Stealing another kiss from Legolas, he too left the room to see how he could assist the king and Eomer.  
  
Gimli watched in silence as Legolas sat down on the floor. "Are you feeling all right, laddie."  
  
"I'm fine," Legolas told him. "I'm just feeling a little drained."  
  
"You are going to tell him, right?"  
  
"I promised I would," murmured Legolas. "And I will at the right time."  
  
Gimli draped an arm around Legolas' shoulders. "There isn't a 'right time' for this conversation, laddie," he said sagely. "He deserves to know the truth and I expect you to tell him at the encampment no matter what else is going on."  
  
Legolas leaned into the dwarf, grateful for the comfort. "You know," he said, "if you just add 'Little Greenleaf' to the end of that sentence, you'll sound exactly like my father."

_wimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

Aragorn's anxiousness was not lessened at the encampment a few days later. He heard the reports of numbers that came in from the different regions while he rode through the muster with Theoden. Always those numbers were much less than hoped for. Always, he noted, the troops that did come were full of fear and doubt.  
  
Theoden did not ease his disquiet. Examining the encampment, the king said, "6,000 in all. Less than half of what I'd hoped for."  
  
"6,000 will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor," Aragorn informed him grimly.  
  
"More will come," assured Theoden, sounding almost cheerful.  
  
"And how long would we have to wait for them to come?" asked Aragorn incredulously. "Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have until dawn and then we have to depart, whether or not more have come."  
  
Theoden looked sufficiently chastised, but the cries of horses drew his attention away from Aragorn. All around the camp, especially near a mountain path, horses reared and refused to be led. Aragorn walked closer to the dark road, inexplicably drawn in by the mountain's pull.  
  
Legolas and Gimli hurried out from their tents to see what the commotion was about. Legolas shuddered at the fear that hung in the air. "The horses are restless and the Men are quiet," he observed.  
  
"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Eomer told him.  
  
Even Gimli, dwarf of the Lonely Mountain, looked spooked. "That road there," he said slowly, as if he feared the answer. "Where does that go?"  
  
Legolas looked down the dark and uninviting path. "That is the road to the Dimolt," he said quietly. "To the pass under the mountains."  
  
"None that go that way ever return," said Eomer. The three hunters marveled at the genuine fear in his voice and face. "That mountain is evil."  
  
Aragorn stepped forward and peered down the road. He gasped as the frigid wind hit his face. It was like something was calling to him; he could almost see...  
  
"Aragorn!" Legolas' voice broke the spell of the mountain. "What is it?"  
  
"Oh, no," said Aragorn. "You promised to tell me what's been troubling you at the encampment. Well, we're here and now that's what we're going to do."  
  
"Very well," Legolas conceded reluctantly. He looked around at the soldiers that seemed to be swarming everywhere. "Not here, though. We need to go somewhere private."  
  
"We'll talk in my tent," offered Aragorn. He took his lover's hand and gently led him to the tent that had been set up for his use. Once inside, he pulled the flap shut, making sure once more that no one was standing close enough to listen.  
  
Legolas stood with his arms crossed over his chest, trying to collect his nerve. "Perhaps you should sit down," he suggested.  
  
Aragorn obediently sat on the edge of his cot. Legolas kneeled in front of him and looked him in the eyes. The man's uneasiness grew to spectacular proportions at the mixture of emotion that he saw there. "Please tell me what's wrong," he begged.  
  
Legolas took one of Aragorn's hands in his and kissed the palm. "I love you," he breathed.  
  
"I love you too," Aragorn murmured back as he caressed the elf's face with his free hand. The unease was turning into genuine fright very quickly.  
  
"Something happened at Helm's Deep," continued Legolas nervously. "Something I can't quite find an explanation for except that I love you so much."  
  
"What?" cried Aragorn with concerned frustration.  
  
Legolas took a deep shuddering breath. "I'm mortal, Aragorn," he said, studying the man's face. He looked utterly stunned. "I have bound myself to you without even knowing it. But I'm not unhappy about this, not if it means that I can be with you in this life and whatever exists beyond death."  
  
"But, but we aren't married," sputtered Aragorn. "We've never joined intimately. How did this happen?"  
  
Legolas stared at their enjoined hands for a moment. "It was the acceptance of love with grief, I suppose," he finally answered, again looking up into Aragorn's face. "It was there that I realized that mortals love with the knowledge that their relationships must end in sadness, at least in this world. I now know that our love will be bitter as well as sweet."  
  
Aragorn drew him into a fierce embrace, clutching him for dear life. "I will give you everything," he vowed tearfully. "Love, life, happiness, safety, everything. We'll live in a Gondor that rivals the golden days of Numenor, with beautiful gardens and anything else that pleases you. I'm going to tell Theoden that we have to depart now. Maybe we can stop the enemy's forces before -"  
  
A firm kiss on his lips quieted Aragorn. "Stick to your plan," Legolas urged. "Don't alter it unless you hear for new knowledge about the attack."  
  
"If Gondor is under siege -"  
  
"If it is under siege," said Legolas, "than taking off now when no one is prepared won't do them any good. My mortality doesn't change anything about the enemy's plans. Trust your instincts like I do and let the Rohirrim get ready."  
  
"I never wanted you to die," Aragorn whispered, the guilt evident in his voice.  
  
"Death would have come to me even if I were still immortal," said Legolas gently. "If I had gone to Valinor and left you, I would have suffered a living death for all eternity."  
  
Their lips met for another deep kiss. Alone in the tent, they reveled in their privacy and enjoyed their closeness after the days of secrets and uncertainties. As the night grew around them, Aragorn and Legolas made hopeful, desperate wishes for the future.  
  
To be continued... 

_A/N: First of all, thanks so much to all my reviewers! This story's been reviewed over 200 times and that just blows my mind._

_There's been some question about what this mortality means for Legolas physically. He's still an elf, with the elven speed, healing abilities, agility, and everything else except the immortality. A robin is still a bird even if it can't fly and Legolas is still an elf even if he will eventually die (which he won't be doing in this particular story)._

_Finally, I'm happy to announce that I'm done with the writing part of this story. Please continue reviewing, though, since I still have to edit and type. On my previous Troy fic I did extensive revisions after completion and totally rewrote one chapter because my reviewers made me realize what direction my story needed to go in. Those reviews really do help. Now I'm going to continue working on my long-overdue prequel to that Troy story (stupid writer's block!) and anything else that pops into my head. Barring any additions or subtractions, "What Is Meant To Be" will have 36 total chapters._


	27. Flame and crown

_Diclaimer: I took three lines from this chapter straight out of the Aragorn/Arwen part of the appendicies. They were, of course, originally written by Tolkien and I take no credit for them. One of the lines, the one that Elrond says in elvish, was modified slightly and may be worded incorrectly._

Later that night, Aragorn slept restlessly on his cot with Legolas in his arms. After finding out about his lover's mortality, he had been reluctant to leave him alone and Legolas patiently agreed to stay in the tent for the night. Luckily, few of the Rohirrim noted that the elf was in there and Gimli stopped by only to glare as furiously as he could in warning that things should not get carried away in a fit of emotion. Aragorn stayed awake for a long time just watching Legolas sleep, his eyes still open - still an elf, despite being mortal. Sleep was no more restful than being awake when he finally drifted off.  
  
Clutching Legolas tightly, Aragorn had the same dream over and over again. In it he was lying on a stone block dressed in all the grandeur that was due to the king of Gondor. His hair and beard were silver gray and lines of age surrounded his closed eyes. He was dead, he realized, and in coming to death had become an image of the splendor of the kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.  
  
Legolas, dressed all in black, stood next to him. His clothing was in the fashion of the Men of Gondor but he was wearing the circlet of mithril that he wore when he attended court functions in Mirkwood. It seemed like he hadn't aged at all. His grief, however, was heartbreakingly plain to see. As crowds of people in mourning passed by Legolas stayed as still as a statue next to Aragorn's dead body.  
  
The dream changed. Legolas was still there in his funeral attire, but now he was walking through the forest of Mirkwood. The elves had obviously left that place a long time before and the forest had grown over what was left of their settlement. He finally came to a stop in a meadow; it was, Aragorn realized, the same place in which Thranduil had caught them kissing those many years before. There Legolas laid down and died alone. His face was gray and cold, like nightfall in winter that comes without a star.  
  
Aragorn started awake with his knife in his hand. Whether it was to defend himself and Legolas from whoever just walked into the tent or to chase off the shadows of that dream he wasn't sure. It wasn't necessary anyway, since the intruder was only a startled young Rohirrim soldier.  
  
To his credit, the youth neither commented on Aragorn's aggressive greeting or on the sleeping elf in bed with him. "The king wishes to see you, my lord," was the only thing he said before leaving quickly.  
  
Aragorn climbed out of bed as quietly as he could, careful not to disturb his lover, and stumbled to Theoden's tent. He couldn't get that dream out of his head. _'Is it a vision of what I've doomed Legolas to?'_ he wondered. _'Must he now endure the grief and despair of outliving those he loves who are mortal and being abandoned by those he loves who are immortal? All alone...'  
_  
Entering Theoden's tent, he was surprised to see the king conversing with a figure dressed in a black robe. A hood obscured the visitor's face but whoever it was had clearly spooked Theoden. The instant Aragorn walked in, the king of Rohan simply said, "I take my leave of you now." With one brief, hard glance, he was gone.  
  
Aragorn didn't have time to wonder what was going on before the cloaked figure rose and removed his hood. "Ada!" cried the man, too stunned to move.  
  
Elrond smiled fondly but wistfully at him. "Mae govannen, ion nin," he said softly. "I come to you on behalf of both King Thranduil and myself."  
  
"King Thranduil?"  
  
"He came to see me," replied Elrond. "The Lady Galadriel traveled in much haste to Mirkwood to tell him of Legolas' mortality."  
  
Guilt filled Aragorn as he remembered the vow he'd taken before Thranduil all those years ago. "What does he want to do?" he asked.  
  
"There is nothing he can do," Elrond said, looking at Aragorn sadly. "At least, there is nothing that can bring the life of the eldar back to Legolas. A mortal cannot become immortal. All he can do now is request that you do all that is in your power to triumph over Sauron and keep your promise to him that you will renew Gondor to the pinnacle of its splendor for his son to dwell in."  
  
"I will lead these Men to victory," vowed Aragorn, feeling much less confident than he sounded. "We will ride out at dawn."  
  
"The enemy is closing in on Minas Tirith," the elf lord told him sharply. "You don't have enough Men to defeat the armies of Mordor, and there is also a fleet of corsairs of Umbar to contend with. You need more Men to be victorious."  
  
"Where can I find some?" Aragorn shot back in frustration. "No more will come."  
  
"None from Rohan," agreed Elrond darkly. "But there are some who will come. You must call on the army that dwells under the mountain."  
  
A chill ran down Aragorn's spine. He could almost see the decaying face of the dead king who commanded that cursed force. "They are traitors and murderers," he protested. "They answer to no one."  
  
"They will answer to you," promised Elrond. "They will answer to the king of Gondor." He pulled a sword out from his cloak in one fast, smooth motion. "This is Anduril, the flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil. I should have given it to you before you set out from Rivendell. I apologize, my son, but I was afraid. I thought I was protecting you from Sauron's eye but all I was doing was delaying the inevitable until it was almost too late. Receive this blade now and take the Paths of the Dead."  
  
Aragorn took Anduril and unsheathed it. The blade almost reached the ceiling of the tent. "The only way you can save Middle Earth and your own future is to put aside the ranger and become who you were born to be," Elrond declared.  
  
Aragorn reverently sheathed Anduril again and hugged Elrond. "Thank you, Ada," he whispered. "I will get my horse ready to set out right now."  
  
Elrond followed his son out of the tent and watched him vanish into the night. "Onen i-estel Edain. U-chebin Estel amin _(I give hope to Men. I have kept no Hope [Estel] for myself)_," he whispered painfully. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he felt someone's gaze on him. Elrond turned to see Legolas standing a few feet away.  
  
"Lord Elrond," the elf prince greeted him softly. "What brings you here?"  
  
"Legolas," replied Elrond gently. "Your father sends you all his love."  
  
"He knows, doesn't he?" asked Legolas, not bothering to specify what he was referring to.  
  
"Yes," Elrond told him. "The Sun Star may have passed to the world of Men, but Prince Legolas of Mirkwood must still represent the elves in this matter. I brought the sword of the kings to Aragorn; I bring you something now."

_wimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_  
  
Aragorn had just finished preparing Hasufel when another cloaked figure approached him. Thinking it was his father coming to see him off he turned hastily and saw that it was not Elrond but Eowyn. As she hurried forward, he could see the reason for the disguise: she was wearing a shirt of chain mail and had her sword strapped to her side. "What is it, Eowyn?" he asked.  
  
"I know you must leave," she stated simply. "I'm going with you."  
  
"Eowyn!" sputtered out Aragorn, who was nearing exasperation. "I don't..."  
  
"This has nothing to do with that!" she shot back. "I know you don't love me and I accept that. But I also know that if you don't take me with you now then I'll be sent back to Edoras. What deeds of renown and importance can I do for my people if I'm sent away from the battle?"  
  
"You don't have your uncle's leave to come with me," said Aragorn. "Nor would he give it if either of us asked. A time may be coming for brave deeds without renown; in Edoras you may have to lead your people in their last defense should the battle go ill."  
  
Eowyn's shoulders sagged a little. "So," she said irritably, "I am to go back and hide in Meduseld. If the battle is won, I can live with the shame that I didn't do my part. If the battle is lost, I can burn in the Golden Hall when the enemy's forces move westward since those who are deemed truly important won't be needing it anymore. You told me once that you thought my fate would be something other than being caged. Did you ever mean it?"  
  
"I am not your way to freedom, Eowyn," Aragorn told her hurriedly, wishing he had the time for explanations and kindness. She backed away from him as if he'd threatened to strike her. "I'm sorry," he continued, forcing his voice to be more gentle. "I cannot give you what you seek." With that he led Hasufel away and never looked back.  
  
The road to the mountain was in his sight when a gruff voice called out: "Where do you think you're going?" It was Gimli, sitting hidden in the shadows as if waiting for him. Which, Aragorn noted with some resignation, was just what he was doing.  
  
"Maybe," the dwarf continued, "the better question would be where do you think you're going alone?"  
  
"I'm going to the mountain alone," Aragorn answered with stubborn firmness. "You must stay behind with Legolas."  
  
"Do you know nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" asked Legolas as he came up beside him with Arod. "It rivals the stubbornness of elves. What makes you think that I'm going to stay behind?"  
  
"I thought you trusted my instincts."  
  
"I do trust in them, but I'm not about to let you go off into peril alone because you're feeling guilty," replied Legolas in exasperation. His face softened. "Your father told me everything. He also gave me this."  
  
In his hand was a box containing an elven crown. It looked like it was woven from pieces of gold that curled elaborately at the ends. Delicate sides that would hug the wearer's face came out from behind. Legolas smiled as recognition and awe spread over Aragorn's face. "The sword of Elendil is going into battle," the elf said. "It's only fitting that the last crown of Gil-Galad goes with it."  
  
"I may not have an ancient sword or crown," piped in Gimli, his tone making it clear that there would be no arguing with him, "but I won't be let you go charging off into danger without me. Face it laddie; we're going with you."  
  
To be continued...

_A/N: Gil-Galad had a famous spear; it might have been more correct to have Elrond give Legolas that instead of the crown but the spear is too big and Legolas doesn't strike me as a spear kind of a guy anyway._

_I'm posting this chapter a little earlier than usual because I'm moving tomorrow. Someone is supposed to come tomorrow afternoon to give me an internet connection, so I'll be able to keep on schedule. I just didn't want to be worrying about posting something tomorrow when I'll most likely be dead tired._


	28. The ghosts of the mountain

Feelings of uneasiness grew in each one of the three hunters as they rode closer to the Dwimorberg. Beneath them, Hasufel and Arod seemed to hesitate more and more with every step. An eerie silence told them that no animal dared to live there. The only signs that anything living ever came there was the bones scattered on the path. Evil emanated from the looming mountain.

"What kind of army would dwell here?" Gimli finally demanded.

"One that is cursed," answered Legolas, recalling old lessons and family stories. "The Men who lived in this mountain swore an oath of loyalty to Gondor, swearing to fight for them whenever they were called. However, when Gondor's need was most dire they refused to fight because they'd once worshipped Sauron. Isildur then cursed them never to rest until they fulfilled their oath."

Aragorn looked at him in wonder. "How do you know about all of that?" he asked curiously. "I didn't think that your tutors in Mirkwood would teach you anything about the world of Men that didn't involve the elves."

"For the most part they didn't," replied Legolas matter-of-factly. "But that particular story concerns the Last Alliance. Ada always insisted that I learn all there was to learn about my daerada's – my grandsire's – last battle." He decided not to tell them that this lesson stuck with him mainly because it was the only time Thranduil spoke Isildur's name without the grief and bitterness about his father's vain death in his voice. Legolas wondered, and not for the first time, if his father would have been more accepting of Aragorn and their relationship had the Man not been a descendant of the person whom he blamed for the growing evil in the world.

When the door that led under the mountain finally came into view the horses refused to carry them any longer. The three were forced to dismount so that Aragorn and Legolas could lead the panicking animals forward. The bones of once-living things were now abundant and piles around the path right next to the Dwimorberg. The doorway was even framed with human skulls.

"None that came here ever returned," whispered Legolas, recalling Eomer's spooked words as he stared at the empty eye sockets of the skulls. "The Men of the mountain were only cursed not to rest. Clearly they can still fight and kill."

"Maybe we should send the horses back to the encampment," suggested Gimli as he glanced at Legolas. "You could go back with them, laddie."

"He might be right about that," Aragorn told Legolas.

"We'll probably need the horses if – when – we come out of the other side," Legolas pointed out. "There's some distance between the mountains and Pelargi, where the corsairs of Umbar are. Even if we did send them back, why should I go with them? They know the way."

"In your current condition -"

"What 'current condition'?" asked Legolas, getting irate. "Mortality? If that's the case then we should _all_ turn around right now since all three of us are afflicted with that." His exasperation dissipated at the chastised looks on their faces. "I'm still an elf," he said more gently. "I'm still the same person who went through Moria to Amon Hen, then on to Fangorn Forest and to fight at Helm's Deep. In fact I was probably in more danger in the mines than I am now because I wasn't fully prepared to deal with the journey's perils back then. Please don't treat me like a child or an invalid."

"We're sorry, meleth," apologized Aragorn.

"This is still new to us," added Gimli.

"It's new to me too," sighed Legolas. The three paused as they came at last to the entryway. "How are we supposed to get through?" he asked, looking at the symbols above the door. "It says here: _The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut_."

As if those words held the magic that brought the mountain out of its slumber, a rush of fell air blew out from the darkness. Hasufel and Arod neighed and took off, spooked beyond even their loyalties to their masters. "Hasufel!" called Aragorn desperately, but they were too far gone both physically and emotionally to respond.

Aragorn looked defiantly into the blackness beyond the doorway. "I do not fear death," he declared as he lunged inside.

"My future is with him," said Legolas, aloud but to himself. "The ghosts of Men will not stop me from going with him." He steeled himself and followed Aragorn.

Gimli stared after them, still rooted to the ground. "This is a thing unheard of!" he cried. "An elf will go underground while a dwarf dares not? Oh, I'd never hear the end of it." That thought finally propelled him through the mountain's entrance.

_Wimtbwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

Elf, Man, and dwarf rushed through the narrow passageways until they reached what appeared to be a large room. As they stepped into it Legolas gasped. "It's a city carved out of the inside of the mountain," he hissed in surprise. "This craftsmanship seems to be beyond the talents of Men. It almost reminds me of Dwarrowdelf, expect –"

"It's dead here," finished Aragorn. "Even under the dominion of the orcs and the balrog, Dwarrowdelf still kept its beauty and majesty. This place is just cold, eerie, and _dead_."

"Who dares enter my domain?" demanded a low, sinister voice. A being that glowed in sickly green slowly appeared before them. Aragorn recognized the decaying face thought he'd seen when he spoke to Elrond and knew that this was the King of the Dead. He squared his shoulders. "One that would have your allegiance."

"The dead to not suffer the living to pass," jeered the dead king.

A strange feeling of indignant fury entered Aragorn. "You may have used your curse to terrify and murder all living creatures in the past," he growled regally, "but that will not happen now. You will suffer me."

The ghost was silent for a moment. Then it let out a horrible laugh and, as if that had been their signal, a host of shadows materialized out of the air and surrounded them. Legolas gripped his bow as they closed in and separated him from the others. _'If they're solid enough to kill those who enter,'_ he reasoned, _'then it might be possible to hurt – or at least stun – them with an arrow.'_

"The way is shut," hissed the king. "It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut." Aragorn was chilled, remembering Legolas' interpretation of the symbols above the doorway. It seemed unlikely that any two beings would use the exact same words to decipher the crude drawings. Had the King of the Dead watched them and eavesdropped as they stood outside or had he somehow put those words into the elf's mind? Aragorn didn't know which scenario disturbed – and enraged – him more.

The ghost seemed to sense the Man's unease. If anything, it seemed to entertain him. "You should have heeded my words," he taunted. "Now you must die."

Legolas swiftly readied an arrow and fired, hitting the king right between the eyes. However, it passed right through his head and caused no harm. "You have not the right nor the power to harm me," laughed the shade. "We are not of this world and answer to none of you."

A smug resolve came into Aragorn's voice. "I summon you to fulfill your oath," he commanded.

"No one but the king of Gondor can order that!" retorted the ghost as he stalked forward. Aragorn made no response but to draw Anduril. The king brought his own sword down, but Anduril deflected it. With a triumphant growl, Aragorn quickly grabbed him and held the blade to his throat.

"That blade was broken!" choked out the ghost.

"It has been remade," Aragorn told him as power radiated from his eyes. He released the king and walked among the shadow army. "Fight for me and regain your honor."

He was powerful. He was kingly. Legolas smiled as all of the power and dignity that the line Elros and Isildur possessed came through with every move Aragorn made. How could anyone doubt whether this Man could save and restore Gondor? His eyes shone as the ghosts' gazes followed Aragorn everywhere as if enraptured by his will.

"You're wasting your time, Aragorn," advised Gimli with disgust. "This lost had no honor in life and they have none now in death."

Aragorn chose to ignore him. "I am Isildur's heir," he announced. Every emotional conflict he had with that title was gone. "Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled."

The King of the Dead stared at him, all jeers and taunts gone from his decaying face. "Fulfilled?" he whispered. "We could at last be at rest?"

"Yes," affirmed Aragorn. "The Dark Lord has risen again. Now is your chance to make amends for your conflicted loyalties in the past. Only I have the power to free you all from your eternal punishment. Help me save Gondor from the impending darkness and all that is owed from you will be done. What say you?!"

"We will answer your summons," responded the king slowly but steadily. All around them the army of the dead seemed to quiver with pent-up fierceness and anticipation. "Now the time has come for us to fulfill our oath and to finally have our peace."

To be continued...

_A/N: Well, I'm moved so I should be able to update regularly for, oh, about a week. Next Monday starts Orientation for graduate school but still I'll to everything I can to keep on track._

_The question has been raised about why I had Elrond give Legolas the last crown of Gil-galad instead of something that belong to Oropher (Legolas' grandfather who died at the battle). I don't know enough about Oropher to know what his sword or anything was called (if it was called anything) and I wanted Legolas to have something that was instantly recognizable and relatable to the elves. _


	29. The wind will take me home

The host of the dead was ready to fight. Once they'd answered Aragorn's summons and followed the three hunters out of the Dwimorberg it was only the Man's commands that kept them from lunging ahead. Now that the corsairs had been overcome at Pelargi and their ships commandeered, the ghosts waited impatiently for the river to take them to Minas Tirith.

Aragorn couldn't fault them for their haste in the matter as he felt it himself. The only reasons why the ships were even moving at all were because of he current in the Anduin and their own rowing. He groaned inwardly as the fleet seemed to pass lazily by the landscape. The only things left of the White City would be piles of ash and rubble if they continued at this pace! What they needed was a powerful wind from the south to give the ships the push they needed, but the weather refused to comply. Aragorn shivered; perhaps the long reach of Sauron could now affect the weather even this far from Mordor. Maybe they'd already lost.

"Don't think that way, my love," Legolas said, suddenly standing at his side.

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" asked Aragorn as he turned to face his lover.

Legolas touched the Man's cheek and gently guided his head so that they could look in each other's eyes. "I saw the expression on your face," he murmured. ""That's all I needed to know that you're thinking dark thoughts."

Aragorn sighed. "I was just wondering if the enemy is the reason for our lack of wind," he confessed. "If he's grown that powerful then all hope may already be gone."

"Don't falter now that we're so close," urged Legolas. "The enemy's not all-powerful yet and there's been a change in the air. Even now the wind that we need is coming from the south."

He turned his head slightly so that Aragorn could see clearly that he was wearing the last crown of Gil-galad. "Do you think I'm wearing this for no reason?" he asked. "The time for the sword and the crown to go into battle again is almost at hand." He frowned in mock petulance. "I most certainly wouldn't put this on for fun. It doesn't weigh too much but it's very tight. I'm afraid it's cutting off the flow of blood to my head."

Aragorn laughed in spite of himself. "Let's hope you can remain conscious long enough to make the world of elves proud in battle," he said. Turning his gaze to the river he sighed again. "I don't see or feel any sign of wind yet."

"It's coming sooner than you think," assured Legolas.

"I believe you," promised Aragorn. "I just wish that the air held something more than a lot of birds."

"Those are sea gulls!" cried Legolas in surprise. He listened for a moment to the gulls' cries and smiled with contentment. "I've never heard the gulls' call before. Ada feared that if I did, the sea longing that elves have would be awakened in me as it was in my mother."

"And is it?" asked Aragorn, a little nervous about what his answer would be. "Do you now long to go to Valinor? Does the sea call you home?"

"No," said Legolas firmly. "The sea holds no power over me now. Valinor cannot offer me a place of eternal rest. No, meleth; all I hear is the gulls' promise that a wind will soon come to take me to the city that I've chosen for my home."

Aragorn wrapped his arms around him and held him close. "You chose this," he smiled.

Legolas moved his head so that their mouths barely touched. "Yes," he breathed and his lips brushed across Aragorn's as he spoke. "I chose you."

The brought their lips together in a hard and passionate kiss. "Will you two stop that?" a loud, familiar voice demanded. They broke apart to see Gimli, who bore a striking resemblance to a mother hen with his hands on his hips. "We're sailing into deadly strife," he lectured. "By Aule, we're surrounded by a bunch of ghosts! I'm sure it's not in good form to do what you were doing in front of an army made up of a bunch of dead people."

"Gimli -," protested Legolas in exasperation.

"Don't 'Gimli' me," scolded the dwarf. "You both should know better. You'll be married soon enough. Behave yourselves now!"

Aragorn opened his mouth to argue but lost the words when a new freshness in the air hit his nose. Above them the black sails flapped and took shape. The wind form the south had come.

_wimbtwimbtwimtbwimtbwimtb_

They crouched in the ships as the wind and current carried them the last half league to the docks of Gondor. A rather nasty attack would have come down on them before they reached the land if Sauron's army realized just who was in control of the ships; they needed to catch them off-guard if they had any chance of overcoming them. Of course, no servant of the enemy could harm or hinder the dead army, but the three hunters wanted to at least arrive at the battle in one piece.

"Now?" hissed Gimli impatiently as the ships came to a stop.

"Not yet," replied Aragorn in a whisper.

"Late as usual!" a foul, harsh voice called from a short distance. "There's knife work to be done here."

Legolas put his hand over Aragorn's. "Whatever happens today or any day that follows," he whispered hurriedly, "I want you to know that there's no place I would rather be than at your side."

"Come on you sea dogs!" the voice ordered.

"I love you," Aragorn whispered, then ordered: _"Now!"_ and jumped over the side of the boat. Legolas and Gimli followed almost instantaneously.

The orcs on the dock looked surprised but not particularly impressed. An elf, a Man, and a dwarf posed no real threat to them. An elf, a Man, and a dwarf backed by an unstoppable army was quite another story. The fighting was vicious, brutal, and intense but the orcs knew they'd lost when the dead army materialized from the ships. That loss seemed to be confirmed by a screech in the distance. It sounded horrible to anyone who heard it, but when it was over a strong new hope entered the hearts of the enemies of Sauron.

_wimbtwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

Legolas and Gimli stood side-by-side on the fields of Pelennor when the battle was over. Aragorn stood nearby, calmly waiting for the army of the dead to come before him. "I fear we won't be able to compare our deeds in battle this time, Gimli," said the elf. "I lost count of how many I killed."

"Alas, I did too," admitted Gimli. "Let's just say that we both did our parts splendidly and call it even."

"That sounds fair," agreed Legolas with a spark in his eyes. "But I still think that the mumakil should've counted for more than one."

"Don't get me started, laddie," sighed Gimli with exhaustion. "These last few days have been long and strange."

"I can see that," Mithrandir's voice observed from a few feet away. The wizard, accompanied by Pippin, came up beside them. "It's not every day one sees an army of ghosts doing such honorable deeds."

"And it's not every day that one sees a hobbit dressed as a warrior of Gondor," replied Legolas. "It looks like you've been busy, Pippin."

"How is it that Gondor has the armor to fit a warrior of smaller stature when Helm's Deep had none?" groused Gimli.

Pippin didn't reply to either of them. Instead, he stared ahead to where Aragorn stood.

Before Aragorn stood the army of the dead. "Release us," the King of the Dead ordered. Aragorn raised his eyebrows at the shade's boldness.

"Oh, bad idea," advised Gimli. "These lads are good in a tight spot, despite the fact they're dead. They could come in handy really soon."

"Though keeping them in your service wouldn't be entirely honorable," piped in Legolas.

"You gave us your word!" cried the king in frustration.

"And I remain true to it," Aragorn told him. "I hold your oath fulfilled. Go now and be at peace." With those words the army of the dead vanished.

Pippin watched in wonder as they disappeared until he was no longer looking at the ghosts but a flurry of excitement a short distance away. Rohirrim soldiers were lifting bodies onto makeshift stretchers. The one they were attending to now was small, almost child-sized...

The hobbit let out a cry and ran across the field with the others close at his heels. He reached the stretcher just as the men were about to lift it from the ground. "Merry!" he screamed in despair and desperation, grabbing the hands of the small body. Lying on the stretcher Merry didn't move.

"He fought bravely," Eomer told them, his eyes read and wet with unshed tears. "Once we are allotted a hall in the city to use for our honored dead we will lay him out with the greatest veneration. He has earned a place right next to – next to..."

"Oh no," gasped Aragorn hoarsely as he spotted the corpse of Snowmane, the king's steed. Rushing over, he saw Theoden's body crushed beneath the horse. "What evil has happened this day?" he wondered, remembering the little boy that Theoden was when he first met him during the days Aragorn used the name Thorongil.

"What evil indeed?" agreed Legolas in a horrified voice. "How did she come to be here?"

_She_? Aragorn looked up to see Legolas standing over a body that laid on a black flowing robe. The body of – "Eowyn!" he cried in alarm as he joined his lover by her side.

"She was able to sneak into the battle disguised as a man named Dernhelm and most likely brought Merry with her," said Eomer as the tears finally escaped from his eyes. "She felled the Witch King and his beast with only this hobbit at hand and died for her efforts. I'll have Elfhelm's head for letting her slip in with his eored! I rue the hour she came to this place. My little sister..."

"Oh, Eowyn," whispered Legolas sadly. Was death the only way she'd be allowed to escape the cage she feared so much? He touched her cheek and jaw with the palm of his hand and got a very welcome surprise. "She's alive!"

"What?" choked out Eomer, not daring to believe.

"I can feel the warmth of life still in her," Legolas explained. He took out one of his white knives and held it carefully under her nose. Sure enough, a faint steam fogged the blade. He ran over to Merry and did the same thing. "They're both hurt, perhaps even fatally, but they're not dead yet."

"Get them to the Houses of Healing!" ordered Mithrandir.

The flurry of activity resumed and increased now that there was hope and time was of the essence. Aragorn pulled Legolas aside. "I need to go with them," he said in a low voice. "There will be no healer in Gondor that can provide the treatment or give the herbs that they need."

"I'm going with you."

"I know you are," replied Aragorn with a smile. "I just wish that I didn't have to go in now. I wasn't planning to enter the White City until Sauron was defeated, when I could claim the kingship."

"Aragorn son of Arathorn doesn't need to enter the city," Legolas told him. "Here, give me your pack."

Aragorn complied and Legolas went through it, pulling out the elven cloak and the greenleaf gem. "Put these on," he advised. "Strider the ranger will do just fine until the hour comes for the king to return to Gondor."

To be continued...

_A/N: While I'm still following the movie timeline, I'll be borrowing more from the bookverse in the chapters involving The Return of the King than I did with the others. If any of you haven't read the books and want clarification on something I put in, please let me know._


	30. Recovery and respite from fear

"What's taking so long?" fretted Pippin as he paced the hallway outside the chamber door where Merry, Eowyn, and Boromir's brother Faramir lay. Legolas watched him go back and forth while Gimli slept in a quiet corner.

"They have each suffered injuries that are greater than their own strengths," Legolas explained calmly, though he certainly didn't feel calm. He was worried too, and not just about the three injured people. In order to heal them, Aragorn would have to expend much of his energy and might possibly have to take himself to the brink of death in order to call them back. "We must trust that Aragorn knows what he's doing," he said aloud.

Pippin flopped down next to where Legolas sat on the floor. "Strider wouldn't _have_ to heal them if I'd been more useful," he bemoaned. "I should have done something more! What good am I anyway?"

"What good are you?" Legolas repeated, looking at the hobbit sharply. "Mithrandir told me all that you've been up to these last few days. You saved him from an orc blade; not many people can honestly claim to have come to a wizard's rescue. And I understand that it was you who saved the Lord Faramir from the pyre."

"But I should have done something sooner!" cried Pippin. "I could see how poor Denethor was losing his mind and I just sat around and watched until it was almost too late. And what about Merry? I just left him behind all by himself to come to the city."

"Pippin," comforted Legolas, putting an arm around him. "Don't twist your memories to make yourself feel worse. You didn't leave him because you wanted to. And remember this: if Merry hadn't stayed in Rohan, Eowyn would probably be dead or captured by now and the Lord of the Nazgul would still walk this earth. Where would we all be in that case?"

"I still could have tried to stay with him," muttered Pippin in a self-loathing manner. "I could have not looked in the palantir in the first place. I could have done _something_."

"I've thought that way as well," confided Legolas. "At Amon Hen, when we got back to your hiding place to find you and Merry gone. I blamed myself for your capture right up to the moment that we found out that you two were safe in the care of the Ents. I kept asking myself why I hadn't stayed with you, or why did I choose that particular place."

"If we hadn't been in that place," said Pippin as understanding slowly came to him, "then Frodo might have been captured. And if you'd stayed with us, you probably would have died too. If you'd saved us from being caught then we'd never have met Treebeard, or gone to Isengard, or to Rohan. Legolas, where do you think our path would have taken us?"

"I don't know," answered Legolas simply. "All I know is that we all took the roads that we were supposed to go on, no matter how painful the journey proved to be."

"Too true, too true," agreed Aragorn as he came out of the healing chambers. At the sound of his voice the elf and hobbit sprang to their feet. "However, I come now to relieve you of some of that pain. All three should be fine after getting the proper amount of rest. Pippin, Merry wants to see you right away; Lord Faramir is asking for you as well."

"Really?" Pippin's face brightened as he scampered to his feet. "Thanks Strider! Thanks Legolas!"

"No thanks are necessary," laughed Aragorn as he shut the door behind the enthusiastic hobbit.

Legolas wasn't fooled by his lover's cheerful tone. "Come," he urged. "I see that you are weary. Let's give Pippin some time alone with Merry and Faramir. I'm sure Eomer and Eowyn need some uninterrupted time alone as well. You need to get some rest and I need to have some time alone with you."

"Let's go to the encampment outside the city," agreed Aragorn with a smile. He started when Gimli let out an unusually loud snore. "Should we wake him so he can come too?"

"No," replied the elf with a scrunch of his nose and a shake of his head. "He should be fine here until the morning. Besides, you know firsthand how _unpleasant_ it is to wake a sleeping dwarf."

"Good point," Aragorn shuddered only half-playfully. "Come, meleth; we leave these patients in good hands."

"That healer who was running in and out of here a little while ago?" wondered Legolas, a little startled.

"No," snorted Aragorn. "He was full of something and it wasn't just useless facts. I mean an old healing woman named Ioreth. I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving them if it weren't for her trust in and knowledge of ancient lore and wisdom."

"I must thank her later if that's the case," said Legolas, slipping and arm around him. "Now come before you fall asleep on your feet in the hallway."

_wimbtwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

Legolas laughed at the sight that greeted him and Aragorn as they approached their tent (and Gimli's too, since there weren't enough tents for anyone to have one to himself). "Well, look who we have here!" he exclaimed.

Aragorn grinned at the snorts of greeting that he and his lover got from Hasufel and Arod. "I see they came all the way from the Paths of the Dead to feast on the grass of Pelennor Fields," he observed with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"Yes, my lord," said the Rohirrim soldier attending the horses. "We feared that you three had perished when they came back running wild and without riders. They followed us here all the way from Dunharrow."

"They are faithful steeds, to be sure," commented Legolas fondly as he stroked Arod's nose.

"Faithful?" snorted the young soldier. "Never before has a horse of Rohan has ever abandoned their rider, even when a battle turned fierce and hopeless. These two –"

"Your heart would have quailed long before theirs did," interrupted Aragorn indignantly. "Were you not afraid under the shadow of the mountain? These poor horses approached the entrance and only ran when the time came to enter it. That was no place for a horse, not even two as brave as these."

"See to it that they'll be ready to ride again as soon as they can be," Legolas told the young man. "Then get some rest while you can. This was but one battle; the war is not over yet."

"Yes, my lords," said the Rohirrim, scurrying to obey orders as the couple entered the tent.

"Alone at last," breathed Aragorn when they were safely inside. "Now what should we do to _occupy_ ourselves?"

"Perhaps you should just get some sleep," suggested Legolas half-jokingly as he ran a hand through Aragorn's hair.

"A worthy suggestion," Aragorn said, taking him into his arms. "But I could also do this." He gently kissed the tip of Legolas' pointed ear before tracing it with his tongue. Legolas gasped and clutched him closer. "And if I did that," he continued seductively, "that I very well can't neglect the other one."

Legolas' breath came in shallow gasps as Aragorn first delicately sucked the tip of the other ear, then used his tongue to caress it. "I – ah! – just can't stand here – oh yes! – while you, you do that," moaned Legolas as he pressed his entire body up as much as he could against the Man's. Aragorn groaned in pleasure as Legolas bent his head to kiss the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The elf's mouth then slid up to Aragorn's neck, to sucking, licking, and kissing it in all the right places.

Aragorn enjoyed the sensations that Legolas' lips and tongue were giving him before gently placing a hand on his cheek and guiding his head up. He kissed Legolas thoroughly, plunging his tongue into the elf's mouth and tasting all over. "Perhaps," murmured Aragorn as he let his hand slide down the elf's body to touch him through his leggings, "we could recreate that night in Lothlorien."

The only answer he got was a cry of desire that escaped from Legolas that broke their kiss. The cries became more fevered as Aragorn did wonderful things with his hands. Aragorn felt Legolas' hands slide down his back, rubbing, touching, and exploring. Sensation and emotion was overwhelming everything else. He was getting dizzy...

"Aragorn!" Legolas tightened his arms around him as the Man's knees buckled. "I think my first suggestion was the correct one," he said, guiding Aragorn to the nearest cot.

"Are you sure I didn't just swoon over you?" Aragorn smiled sleepily as he lay down, resting his head on Legolas' lap.

Legolas lovingly stroked Aragorn's hair. "The night will come when I can really make you swoon," he murmured. "Sleep now and dream of that."

"That is a dream I've been having for many years," responded Aragorn. "I hope it comes."

"What wouldn't it?" whispered Legolas, keeping his voice soothing and even to lull him to sleep.

"I might be able to save Minas Tirith," said Aragorn, "but then what happens? How will I be able to renew the splendor of the ancient realm? Even in this city the population is dwindling, many homes are deserted, and the walls and many structures are falling apart. The White Tree of the kings is dead. Your father said long ago that he would only give his permission for us to be together while you're still underage if I were to renew Gondor and Arnor."

"I doubt my father will forbid our union now," Legolas assured him gently. "I think he knows that my destiny lies with the world of Men no matter what else happens in these dark days."

"I don't want for you to have to settle in the ruins of a dying land," replied Aragorn. "The Minas Tirith that we make our home should be alive, full of beauty and strength."

"And we will make sure that happens," murmured Legolas, moving his fingers through Aragorn's hair. "Though I don't care where we live as long as you are with me."

The gentle touch was finally lulling the tired Man to sleep. As Aragorn drifted off, he heard the words that inspired his dreams that night and for many nights after: "I will always love you and have always believed in you. The day will come when we stand together in the courtyard of the city, watching the White Tree as it blossoms anew."

To be continued...


	31. Trapped in the moment

Eowyn struggled a little bit, but managed to sit up in her bed in the Houses of Healing. "What are you doing here?" she asked her visitor curiously.

"There will be a meeting in a short while to decide what our next step in the war should be," Legolas informed her as he sat down in the chair next to her bed. "I just wanted to see how you were doing before I went."

"If you only have a short time to visit with anyone then why aren't you visiting Merry?" she persisted. A stricken look crossed her face. "Did something happen to him in the middle of the night?!"

"He's fine," assured Legolas soothingly. "I just had a nice talk with him. Pippin is seeing to it that he's – how should I put this? – properly entertained at the moment."

Eowyn managed a weak smile. "So...you came to see me."

"I did," he said. "That is, if the slayer of the Witch King will receive me. Your deed has won you great renown, Eowyn. There are none among all the races of these lands that can claim such an honor."

"Honor?" she snorted in a self-deprecating manner. "What did _I _do, really? I promised Merry that I would protect him and instead he almost died trying to protect me. I tried to save my uncle and now he's lying dead in the citadel." Her voice broke off as she stifled a sob, determined not to give in to the tears now. "I wanted for myself only an honorable death in battle and now here I am."

"Why did you go into battle seeking death?" asked Legolas, although he could already guess the answer. He hoped his voice sounded calm and didn't betray his worry.

"I was trapped, Legolas!" Eowyn cried despairingly. "I love my land and my people as much or more than any soldier in our army. I'm of the house of Eorl and no less brave and valiant than my brother and yet I was never allowed to fight. Even at Helm's Deep I was ordered to cower in the caves while untrained little boys and feeble old men fought. And then when Aragorn..."

She stopped and gave him a quick, nervous look, as if she just remembered exactly whom she was speaking too, and then looked away with a flushed face.

"Eowyn," said Legolas gently. "Don't be embarrassed or ashamed of your feelings towards Aragorn. I told you once that I don't condemn you for them and that's still true."

She took a deep breath and looked at him again. "When Aragorn refused to let me go with your company on the Paths of the Dead I could endure it no longer," she continued. "He seemed to be the only person who thought I was capable of being more than just a housewife or a nursemaid. I thought that he was the only person who could free me from my life, but instead he basically told me to go back to Meduseld. I couldn't do it, Legolas; death seemed preferable to going back to that cage."

"And so Dernhelm came into being."

"Yes," she affirmed. "But none of that matters, for I am the sister of the king now. I'll be married off to some high-ranking Rohirrim noble who demonstrates the most loyalty, or possibly to the ruler of another kingdom to seal a treaty or alliance." She let out a sigh. "Maybe I should just accept that such a cage is inevitable."

"If such a cage is inevitable," said Legolas sharply, "then I wouldn't be here right now. I'd be in my father's throne room, listening to a bunch of troubadours prattle on about sunshine and blue seas. You did escape, Eowyn, in order to find a death of your own choosing. I think you lie here now because you were meant to escape and live."

She smiled wryly. "What a concept."

"Oh, excuse me my lord, my lady!" an elderly healing woman interrupted. "I don't mean to intrude but I'm to tell you, master elf, that the meeting is starting in a few minutes."

"Thank you," smiled Legolas. Something that Aragorn mentioned the previous night came into his mind. "May I inquire your name? You wouldn't happen to be Ioreth, would you?"

The woman looked absolutely shocked. "I am!" she cried. "How did you know my name."

He rose to his feet. "The ranger who was in here last night mentioned it to me," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it.

"Oh," she blushed, then lowered her voice. "You know him then? Do you know if he's the king? It was said that the hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and his healing skills were just remarkable."

"I cannot tell you the answer to that now," Legolas told her in a conspiring tone. "But I can tell you that he was most impressed by your knowledge of ancient lore and wisdom." He gave her a meaningful look.

Ioreth's eyes grew wide. "Thank you, good master elf!" she exclaimed in excitement. "My lady," she continued importantly, turning to Eowyn, "I will be back to check on you as soon as I'm finished with the Steward Faramir."

Eowyn shook her head after the healing woman left. "I didn't know elves could be that charming," she noted.

"Trust me, she deserves every bit of it."

"Wait, did she say 'Steward Faramir'?" she asked. Legolas nodded in affirmation. "The Lord Denethor is dead then? How did he die, and how is it that his son is in the Houses of Healing?"

"The Lord Faramir is here because of familial obligations," replied Legolas as he made his way to the door. "Well, that and trying to fit into the cage that others made for him."

With one last grim smile he left her pondering his parting words.

_wimtbwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

"I apologize if I'm late," said Legolas as he entered the throne room of Minas Tirith. "I was visiting with Eowyn."

Eomer frowned at this. "Were you?" he asked stiffly. "Well, it may be proper among elves for a male to visit a female while she is unsupervised and confined to her bed, but it is not in the world of Men. I must ask you to refrain from such visits in the future, and to use her proper title when you refer to her."

"Is it then improper to call someone by name if she's given permission for you to do so?" Legolas retorted as he stepped next to Rohan's new king. "And is it improper for a friend to visit a bored and depressed friend during her confinement? I assure you that I'm no threat to her virtue, as my own is pledged to another."

The tension vanished from Eomer's face, replaced with exhaustion and concern. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I just can't shake the image of my baby sister lying as if dead on that battle field. Gandalf told me that Wormtongue's poisonous whispers were part of what drove her there. I just don't want another male to hurt her."

"I am no Wormtongue," Legolas informed him. "The world is full of males who are not Wormtongue either. Don't protect your sister from her own heart's desire or the only male who is hurting her will be you."

Eomer let out a shuddering breath. "I know," he sighed, wanting to steer their conversation to a less painful topic. "So, you are pledged to someone? Who is the lucky lady?"

Aragorn sidled up next to Legolas and kissed him full on the lips. "Watch who you call a lady," he said flatly to a stunned Eomer. Stealing another kiss, he went back to where Mithrandir was standing and the meeting commenced.

"I cannot see Frodo and Sam from afar," lamented Mithrandir. "All we have is a report from Faramir that they intended to go to the Morgul Vale and then to Cirith Ungol with Gollum as their guide."

Aragorn grimaced at the memory of traveling with that wretched little creature, of taking Gollum to Mirkwood and then watching as he tried to paw Legolas' leg. Still, better the little hobbits were with him than with a servant of the enemy. "If Sauron had the ring, we would know it," he said firmly.

"It's only a matter of time," replied Mithrandir.

"Until the day I see their bodies and the shadow of Sauron covers this land, I refuse to give up hope," announced Aragorn. "Instead of despairing, we need to find a way to give Frodo and Sam safe passage to Mount Doom."

"What are you proposing?" asked Legolas.

Aragorn took a deep breath. "We must gather all of our forces to make a last stand at the Black Gate."

"Madness!" Gimli sputtered out.

"Aragorn," said Eomer carefully, "we cannot win through strength of arms. We just don't have enough people for that to happen."

"No, we can't and we don't," agreed Aragorn. "But we can give Frodo a chance. We can draw the enemy's eye to us" – he turned to Legolas, who was smiling – "and away from everything else that moves."

"A diversion," nodded the elf.

"Yes," said Mithrandir slowly, thoughtfully. "It just may be the only course of action open to us."

"Small chance of victory, certainty of death," assessed Gimli. "What are we waiting for?"

"If this be our only chance I'll assemble as many Rohirrim as I can," promised Eomer. "But first I must visit my sister and let her know what's going on."

"You must raise the troops of Gondor, Mithrandir," said Aragorn as Eomer departed. "Faramir is still too ill to command and I can't claim any type of rule over the people unless – until – we are victorious."

"You're right, you're right," agreed Mithrandir, his eyes twinkling. "Come with me, master dwarf. I shall need some assistance now that Pippin is distracted with Merry's well being."

Gimli got to his feet. "Mind that you two behave yourselves," he warned Legolas and Aragorn as he left with the wizard.

Legolas stared after him in amused amazement. "He just needs the blonde hair, the pointy ears, and the 'Little Greenleaf'," he said, imitating King Thranduil perfectly, "and he'd be my father.

"Do you think this plan is hopeless?" blurted out Aragorn.

"Hopeless?" mused Legolas. "Perhaps not hopeless. Desperate, yes. I do think it's desperate, bold, reckless, and dangerous. But that doesn't mean it's not the right plan. You haven't led us astray yet, and you aren't starting to at this point."

"So much is at stake," murmured Aragorn. "There didn't seem to be much hope of success when the journey began, but now that we've had some victories I don't want them to be fruitless. I don't want everyone who died to have done so in vain."

"Yes," replied Legolas, tracing the Man's face with his fingertips. "We all risked everything when we dared to have hope, but it's worth it. We must stand firm and not waver now that the end, for good or ill, is in sight."

To be continued...

_A/N: A few reviewers have asked me if I'm going to write a sequel to this. I'm most definitely not opposed to the idea (though it might take a little while in coming since I'm concentrating on a Troy fic __at the moment); however whatever story there is in the sequel will most likely involve mpreg. Comments? Encouragements? Discouragements?_


	32. When each moment could be your last

The march to the Black Gate of Mordor was grim and bleak. As the Host of the West moved closer and closer to the enemy's realm, the land became more desolate. The plants, trees, and all that was once green were either dead or very near to that point. What little was left of the reminders that Gondor once controlled the land laid in ruin, desecrated by the orcs a long time ago. Spread all across the ground were the bones of animals, orcs, and some that looked disturbingly like those of elves, dwarves, and Men.

Still the army moved ahead, led by Rohan's new King Eomer (with Merry in the saddle behind him), Mithrandir (accompanied by Pippin), Legolas and Gimli, again riding the faithful Arod, and Aragorn on Hasufel. Legolas couldn't keep his eyes off of his lover. Gone were the man's weather-stained ranger gear; he now wore fresh clothing that befit his yet-unclaimed title of King of Gondor, complete with a leather tunic that bore an image of the White Tree. The only things from the journey that made the transition to his new attire were Boromir's gauntlets and the greenleaf gem at his neck.

'_Any who see him now couldn't deny that he is indeed the king returned,' _thought Legolas proudly. _'As they shouldn't; he _will _be the King of Gondor.'_ He kept that belief firmly in his mind. No time or energy could be spent on doubt anymore. To have the strength of mind to march to the Black Gate he had to believe that everything he fought for would come into being.

"We should take a rest here," suggested Eomer, jarring the elf from his revelry. "We're almost upon the land of Mordor now. Let's give the men one last chance to gather their strength and wits. They'll need to be as fresh as possible in both body and mind if they're going to do battle at Sauron's front door."

"Halt!" called out Aragorn. The host stopped dead, looking most relieved to be stopped in their tracks. "We will take a brief rest here to get our bearings. If there is anything that you must do, be swift! Our destination is not far off." He sighed and turned to his companions. "And my heart forebodes that time is something we are very quickly running out of," he concluded in a lower voice.

"Aye," agreed Gimli brashly. "But it's not gone just yet."

"So Aragorn," said Mithrandir as he helped Pippin down from his perch on Shadowfax's back. "This land was once a part of the realm of Gondor, before the shadow claimed it. If all comes to pass as we would have it, this will become part of the realm again under your rule."

"Lucky you," Eomer noted. "This place reeks of orc and death. It will take years for it all to be cleansed."

"Perhaps the parts so close to the Black Lands such as this," said Legolas. No one dared to speak the name of Mordor when they were so near to it. "The areas closer to Minas Tirith just need some work by those who know what they're doing. Once the war is over, I'm sure that my father can spare some of the elves of his realm to bring life back into the things that grow."

"There's a lot of good stonework too," added Gimli. "So strong and sturdy that not even years of malice under the orcs could wholly destroy it. The labors of a few skilled dwarves would do wonders in bringing it back to its original glory."

"And the Men of the land would repair the roads and rebuild homes," mused Aragorn. "I like the sound of that. A land rebuilt with the combined efforts of elves, Men, and dwarves would be a place that any king would be proud to name as part of their kingdom."

"Hey!" cried Merry indignantly. "Don't you think hobbits should do something too? That way all of the peoples – and all of the fellowship – will be represented."

"And what do you think that hobbits should contribute, young Meriadoc?" asked Mithrandir with a raise of his bushy eyebrows.

Merry waved his hand dismissively. "That's obvious."

"Is it now?"

"Of course," piped in Pippin. "Pipe-weed! We'll plant some of our best herbs here and show the Men how to tend to them properly. After all, we can't leave Strider stuck here so far away from anything good to put in his pipe."

"That would truly made it a paradise," chuckled Aragorn. The others joined in his laughter for a few seconds. "So," he continued as the noise died away, "how long did that take our mind off of matters?"

"A couple of minutes, I'd wager," guessed Gimli.

"Amazing," commented Merry.

"That the longest I've gone without thinking about what lies ahead," added Pippin. "I even got a break from fighting the urge to scream."

"I fear that it's now time to come back to reality," sighed Aragorn. "Eomer, rally the Rohirrim. Mithrandir, do the same with the Gondorians."

"Why don't you just tell them who you really are and officially take command?" Merry asked him after the king and wizard left. "I'll bet anything that most, if not all, of the soldiers from Gondor already guessed anyway."

"Yeah," agreed Pippin. "You should have heard them talking in Minas Tirith. Everyone knows how you healed Merry and everybody else and apparently there's a saying that the hands of the king are the hands of a healer."

"That's what Ioreth kept saying in the Houses of Healing," interjected Merry. "She said she never would have believed that a man could be a warrior and healer both before she saw what you could do."

"They don't think that anyone except the King of Gondor could wear an elf gem like you have," continued Pippin, pointing at the greenleaf gem. "They've been calling you the Lord Elfstone, or the Lord Elessar; been saying that these lands are being reclaimed in the name of King Elessar. So if they're marching in your name anyway, why not just take up the title?"

"I thank you two for your votes of confidence," said Aragorn. "But I cannot take on the mantle of king until Isildur's mistake has been rectified."

"And that's just what were going to do," sighed Gimli. "Funny how all conversations lead back to that fact – and that field of battle."

"To the field of battle where the Last Alliance fought at the end of the Second Age," said Legolas slowly, trying to take it all in.

"Really?" asked Pippin. "The exact place where Elrond and Isildur and all them fought and the ring got cut off and everything?"

The elf nodded. "My father fought there too," he said soberly. "My grandsire died there."

"And now we go to finish that fight," said Aragorn grimly. "Let's do it right this time so that at the end of the Fourth Age our descendants won't be sitting here, discussing how they must now continue the fight because of our follies."

Mithrandir and Eomer returned. "All is ready," Eomer reported. "The men will be ready to move on in a few minutes."

"Come Gimli," said Legolas, trying to sound like there was absolutely nothing to worry about. "Let's get back to Arod." His face clouded over when he mentioned the horse's name. "I think we should turn the horses loose before the battle begins. Let them go to the field of Cormallen. That way they won't be too far off if we win and will have enough of a head start if-"

He clapped his hand over his mouth, horrified at what he almost said. Aragorn laid his own hand on the elf's before taking it and squeezing gently, comfortingly. "That's a good idea, meleth," he agreed softly. "In any case, I don't think that any horse save perhaps Shadowfax could endure anything that will come out of the Black Land."

"But –" Merry's voice faltered for a moment. He took a deep breath and started again. "But there's still hope, isn't there?"

Mithrandir and Pippin exchanged a knowing glance. "A fool's hope," said the hobbit with a wistful smile. "Just a fool's hope."

"Thank the Valar that fools hope then," asserted Aragorn as he slipped an arm around Legolas' waist. "So many wonderful things have happened all because fools dare to hope."

Legolas leaned into Aragorn. "I would rather go into this battle with one person's foolish hope than all the cold logic and despair that those considered 'wise' can give."

They stood there in silence for a moment longer. "Well," Mithrandir finally spoke up. "It is time."

Each of them walked back to their horses with their heads held high except for Aragorn and Legolas. They lingered for a bit longer. "I –" started Aragorn, but emotion choked his voice, stopping him from continuing.

Legolas smiled and joined their lips in a desperate kiss. He pressed himself against the Man, letting out a muffled cry of passion as Aragorn massaged and caressed his tongue with his own. Aragorn had his arms wrapped around his body, trying to pull the elf even closer. Neither cared that every soldier could see their very public display of affection. Both knew very well that this could be their last kiss and they wanted to put a lifetime of love and desire into it.

The kiss finally ended, but they didn't bother to break apart just yet or even move their lips away. "I love you," breathed Aragorn, his mouth brushing Legolas' with every word.

"I love you too," Legolas told him. "In this world and whatever lies beyond, my love will always be yours as long as I am able to give it."

With those last vows, they reluctantly broke apart, holding hands as they walked back to where the horses stood side-by-side. The others had already mounted, so with one last squeeze they did the same. "Men!" shouted Aragorn to the Army of the West. "We move forward!"

"This is it," Mithrandir said in a low voice as they led the army across the final leagues to Mordor. "We've all been on paths, through light, darkness, wilderness, and war, that have led us to this moment."

A cry ran through the host as the Black Gate came into view. The final stage of the quest was at hand.

To be continued...

_A/N: Wow! I'm very flattered by all the response I've been getting to the question about a sequel. Thank you for all of your encouragement! I am going to write one, even though I most likely won't be able to update it as fast as I have on this one (classes start next week, hopefully I'll be employed by then, and I'm working on two other stories at different levels of diligence). I'll aim to make the postings a weekly thing and hope to have a chapter up within a week or two of the ending of this story (barring any trouble with the plot bunnies)._


	33. Bittersweet

_A/N: Aragorn's big speech to the Army of the West is, of course, not mine. It's borrowed from the movie._

"What's taking so long?" wondered Legolas anxiously. The Host of the West had moved into ranks, facing the Black Gate, a while ago. He could now feel their fear growing every second they stood in that eerie silence, awaiting Sauron's response.

"I think it's time that someone rang the doorbell and announced our presence," replied Aragorn darkly. He urged Hasufel forward, followed by the riders of the three other horses. "None of you need to come with me," he told them. "I'm probably just making a target of myself for whatever is waiting on that wall."

"Don't think that I'm going to stand back now, _Estel_," said Mithrandir pointedly. "I have been engaged in this struggle since before you terrorized the twins with the saga that was your potty training."

"And I have a responsibility to represent the Rohirrim," chimed in Eomer. "It's been a long time since Thorongil rode as an official part of our numbers."

"You can't possibly thing I'm going to sit back and watch as you ride into danger," Legolas told his lover. "I intend to stay right here at your side."

"Face it, lad," declared Gimli. "You're never going to be able to go into danger and war alone as long as at least one of us is around."

Bolstered by their unwavering loyalty, Aragorn squared his shoulders. "Let the lord of the Black Land come forth," he yelled as loud as he could, thoroughly impressed that his voice was commanding and _not_ shaking. "Let him answer for the evils he has done against the free peoples of Middle Earth!"

Silence was again their only answer for a long moment. Then the gate creaked and opened slowly to reveal a gigantic army of orcs, trolls, and other evil creatures that had allied themselves with the enemy. There seemed to be no end to Sauron's forces.

"Go back," Aragorn ordered his fellow riders. They hastily complied, falling back to the ranks of men who were now shifting fearfully in place and looking ready to bolt at any moment. Aragorn looked at them with sympathy rather than annoyance. He knew that most of them had never marched beyond their own countries before. Mordor had never been anything more than a sense of uneasiness in the air or a far away place of nightmarish legend. Now that they were faced with the terrifying reality, he wasn't surprised that fear was quickly overriding their valiant courage.

"Men of Gondor, of Rohan. My brothers!" called out Aragorn in a loud, clear voice, determined to give these brave men whatever words they needed to handle this ordeal. "I sea in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me!" He paused for a moment to steal a glance at Legolas. _'Please Eru, don't let this take the heart of me,' _he begged silently.

"The day may come when the courage of Men fails," he continued. "That we may forsake our friends and forget all bonds of fellowship." His eyes shone with pride as Gimli squeezed Legolas' arm and the hobbits exchanged a smile that told the story of their journey. "But it will not be this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shield when the age of Men comes crashing down, but it will not be this day! This day we fight! I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

No fear was in the men's voices as they answered in a resounding cheer that would lift the hopes of even the most desolate and despairing being. It shook the ground even as the orcs drew closer.

"Aragorn!" shouted Legolas. The Man turned to see that he'd dismounted Arod and was helping Gimli do the same. "The horses!"

Aragorn quickly dismounted as the others did the same. "Hannon lle, my faithful friend," he murmured to Hasufel.

"Lead them to Cormallen," Mithrandir urged his steed. Shadowfax let out a majestic neigh and sped off, leading the others to safety.

The remnants of the fellowship and Eomer came together in front of the Army of the West as Sauron's host spilled out of Mordor. They were like ants, parading endlessly out of their dark hole until they'd completely surrounded their prey. "I guess this is it," said Gimli, sounding resigned. "I never thought I'd die side by side with an elf."

Legolas quirked an eyebrow at him. "If you don't like the idea of that," he suggested, his voice giving away how much he cared for and respected the dwarf, "how about side by side with a friend."

"Aye, laddie," said Gimli with equal fondness. "Now that's something I would be proud to do."

The air was suddenly filled with a sinister chill. Legolas jumped as Aragorn broke away from the group and started forward. "Aragorn!" he hissed desperately. He tried to follow but found that he was rooted in place by some will other than his own. "The eye of the enemy is upon him," he realized, terror seizing his heart.

Aragorn felt himself being pulled forward. "Aragorn," a malevolent voice called seductively in his mind and all around him. "Elessar. Come forth to me and I will give you everything that you wish. Lead me to the ring and all that you desire will be yours to command in an instant."

It was that promise that broke whatever spell the enemy had put over him. Looking back at Legolas he knew exactly what he wanted and desired. He remembered the elf's triumphant grin when he'd bested Elladan on the archery field, how his lips felt when he'd felt them on his own for the first time, and the resolve in his voice when he'd given him the greenleaf gem. Aragorn remembered the touches and caresses in Lothlorien surrounded by elanor flowers and how his eyes shone when he knew how the Man had resisted the ring. Most of all, he remembered the power of Legolas' words at Helm's Deep and when he told Aragorn that he was mortal because he loved him so much. _That's _what Aragorn wanted; to love Legolas, for Legolas to love him, and to be worthy of such a gift. And that's what it was – a gift that the ring couldn't deliver because it had already been freely gifted. To give in now would shatter it forever.

'_It is time,'_ he realized. Time for him to rise above all of his fathers since the days of Elendil and help a little hobbit be rid of a burden that he shouldn't have to have born in the first place. "For Frodo," he declared quietly before turning with a yell to meet the enemy's army head-on.

The others followed quickly behind him and the entire Host of the West came behind them. The field was once again caught in a frenzy of clashing swords and knives, as well as swinging axes and bow shots. They might have been vastly outnumbered but at the very least they'd take a good many with them into death. However the battle went, a great victory had already been achieved: for the first time ever, members of all four races had marched in together and now battled as allies against evil forces.

"The eagles have come!" cried out a surprised and relieved voice. Aragorn looked to the sky and saw that there was indeed a vast number of eagles, led by Gwaihir the Windlord, doing battle against the fell beasts of the Nazgul.

"This is just like old Bilbo's story!" he heard Pippin shout to Merry.

"Yeah!" agreed Merry. "And his side won in the end."

Aragorn might have taken a second to muse fondly about hobbit logic if he hadn't heard the abnormally heavy footfalls behind him. The world seemed to slow down as he turned to face a monstrous troll. With Anduril glinting, he ran toward it but the troll reacted as if nothing more than a mosquito was attacking it. It raised its great metal club, bringing it down with all of his strength to crush the Man's skull. Aragorn deflected the blow enough so that it didn't kill him, but it did knock him on his back.

Legolas watched in horror as his lover hit the ground. _"ARAGORN!"_ he screamed. The Man was still valiantly trying to fend off the troll, but the creature wasn't fazed at all. With all elven grace forgotten, Legolas roughly pushed orcs aside, trying to force his way forward to Aragorn's aid.

The troll had knocked Anduril from Aragorn grasp and was now raising its foot. Legolas cried out as it stomped on Aragorn, slowly and deliberately. It seemed to take extreme pleasure in prolonging its victim's agony. Oh, were the orc blocking his way on purpose? In a desperate panic, Legolas tried to leap over them, his eyes still fixed on his lover. The Man was still fighting to the last, stabbing at the troll's foot with his curved elven knife.

Suddenly the cries of the Nazgul filled the air. Of course they'd been filling the air since the beginning of the battle, but now they sounded surprised and alarmed rather than menacing and powerful. Without warning, they turned their fell beasts from the fight with the eagles and flew as fast as they could toward Mount Doom. The other servants of the enemy, as if suddenly abandoned by the will that gave them the skill to fight, stopped their onslaught.

The confusion that gripped the army of Sauron allowed Legolas to break through their ranks and rush to Aragorn's side. The troll has stopped his vicious attack when the others did, taking off and leaving Aragorn to struggle to sit up. Legolas threw himself to the ground behind him, half-supporting and half-hugging him. "Are you well, meleth?" he asked breathlessly. "Are you injured?"

Aragorn squeezed the arms around him as if his lover would vanish if he didn't. "I'm better than any Man should be after being stepped on by a troll," he gasped, not believing he still breathed at all. "Help me stand."

"The eye of the enemy has turned," Legolas told him as he pulled Aragorn to his feet. "It's now fixed on Orodruin!"

_That would mean..._ Aragorn whipped his head in the direction of the mountain just in time to see a mesmerizing sight. Barad-dur, with they eye of Sauron at the top, was starting to crumble. The eye that had once menaced all that was good on Middle Earth, that had seemed so unstoppable, was now looking around frantically as its fortress toppled. The enemy knew that his power was gone forever.

"Frodo!" yelled Merry as he thrust his sword aloft. "Frodo!"

Then, when there was almost nothing left of Barad-dur save a pile of rubble on the ground, the eye of Sauron turned in on itself and vanished forever. The vanishing sent out a shockwave that caused the ground under the servants of the enemy's feet to fall out and destroy them. The Host of the West cheered, wept, and congratulated each other as they came to realize that unexpected and total victory was at hand. No living being on that field would ever forget that day, or be able to recall them without tears coming to their eyes.

Standing in front of the celebration was the remnants of the fellowship. They stared at the top of Mount Doom, or rather where the top used to be. The shockwave that had destroyed their enemies had also destroyed the mountain's peak. The peak where Frodo and Sam would have been in order to complete the quest. Aragorn stood in shock, only vaguely registering Merry and Pippin's sobs, Gimli's shout of despair, and Mithrandir's frantic request to Gwaihir that he bear the wizard to the molten-covered ruins. Legolas slipped his hand into Aragorn's as tears of grief fell from both of their eyes onto that field of victory.

To be continued...

_A/N: My computer's currently under seige from Spyware. I've put in a call to a repair service and hopefully they'll be able to fix the problem before it's totally unusable. However, if I don't post again by Thursday assume that my computer has to spend a few days at the shop and my online time's been reduced to checking my e-mail at the university library. Wish me (and my computer and the nice repair-people) luck!_


	34. A sign of the times

"Do you think they're going to be okay?" asked Merry anxiously – and not for the first time – as he, Pippin, Legolas, and Gimli waited tensely outside a tent in the field of Cormallen. Aragorn and Mithrandir had been inside for hours performing the daunting task of healing Frodo and Sam.

Tears welled in Legolas' eyes as he remembered the moment that Gwaihir and two of his kindred bore the two little hobbits to the field and laid them almost reverently down on the ground before the feet of the remainder of the fellowship. Nothing could have prepared them for that first look. There had been so much dirt on their faces that it almost obscured their identities. Their lips were dry, cracked, and bleeding, as if they hadn't had anything to drink in days. Cuts and bruises covered their much-thinner bodies. Blood was caked all over Frodo's hand; blood from a hole where one of his fingers used to be. They had lain utterly still on the ground, not making a sound. Legolas had feared that they were already dead but then Mithrandir started shouting to Aragorn that they needed to be tended to immediately. Man and wizard each took a hobbit into the tent and there they remained several hours later.

"Here laddie," Gimli said to Legolas, noticing the tears. "You look tired. Rest your head on my shoulder."

Legolas did so, thankful for the discreet way to hide his tears from the already emotional and frightened hobbits. "I never thought I'd be comforted by a dwarf," he murmured to Gimli.

"You are being comforted by a friend," Gimli whispered back, unconsciously stroking the elf's hair.

The tent door pulled back and Aragorn emerged, looking absolutely exhausted. The four immediately jumped to their feet. "Well?" asked Pippin, sounding fearful of the answer. "Are they..."

"They will live," Aragorn whispered with choked emotion. "They will live," he repeated a little louder in a shaking voice. "They will live. All four of you will see the Shire again. They will live."

They stood in silence for a moment, giving their tired, emotionally overloaded minds time to absorb the news. Then Pippin started to laugh before breaking down in tears. Merry joined in soon after, and then they all followed suit, laughing and crying at the same time to release the months of fear, tension, and grief. Legolas leaped forward into Aragorn's arm. "You are without a doubt," he said, holding him as tightly as he could, "the most wonderful and brilliant healer this world has ever had."

"They're alive!" grinned Aragorn. He grabbed Legolas' cheeks and kissed him hard on the lips. "They're alive and we're alive. The free peoples of this world are still standing and Sauron is no more."

"Come, come, sit down lad," urged Gimli. Aragorn complied and the others sat around him. "Now tell us the whole story."

"Please?" chimed in Pippin. "Can you tell us anything about what they've been through?"

"Not anything definite," answered Aragorn soberly. "They haven't woken up yet. All I can say with some certainty is that they ran out of food and water about a day before they made it to the crack of Doom."

"What about poor Frodo's hand?" asked Merry anxiously.

Aragorn hesitated for a moment before responding. "He's missing one of his fingers," he finally said. "I think – I think it may be the one that he put the ring on at Weathertop. It looks like it was bitten off."

"_Bitten off?"_ repeated Legolas in horror.

"Frodo's journey has been long and painful," nodded Aragorn. "There are wounds on his back that were clearly made with a whip and a large stab wound in his stomach. It might have been made with a large spear; the wound was too thick and rounded to have been made by a sword or knife."

"Can – can we see them?" asked Pippin tentatively, his voice and body still shaking with emotion at hearing the extent of Frodo's injuries.

"I think that's a splendid idea," said Aragorn warmly. "It will probably take them a few days to regain consciousness, but they need all the love and support that they can get. Mithrandir seems intent on staying with them until they wake; I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company."

"Come on, Pip!" Merry grabbed his cousin's hand and together they raced into the tent.

Gimli looked from Legolas to Aragorn and back again. "Well," he said gruffly. "I suppose you two want to be alone."

Legolas smiled. "If you don't mind."

"Hrrumph," grunted the dwarf. "I guess I can go see what the troops are cooking. All this waiting and worrying is hungry business." He started to walk away, but then paused. "Just remember," he added, "there are some things you shouldn't do outside of someone's sick-tent. Your wedding is a sure thing now; you can wait until then."

"Well," said Aragorn after Gimli left. "He's right, at least about one thing. All of our waiting and worrying is almost over. A messenger's been sent ahead to Minas Tirith to bring tidings of our victory – and that one who can claim the throne of Gondor is coming to do so."

"I can't believe that it's finally happening," breathed Legolas in excitement. "The darkness has passed and we're going to live together in peace in Gondor. Everything that my father challenged you to do is about to be done."

"Everything except for the renewal of Gondor and Arnor," murmured Aragorn, looking down.

"Don't start this now," said Legolas firmly, grabbing his chin and forcing the Man to look in his eye. "Against all odds the free peoples live and Sauron is destroyed. Against all odds Frodo and Sam, two little hobbits who had never left their homeland before, went into Mordor and came out alive. I don't doubt for a moment that the ancient kingdom will be restored.

Aragorn wrapped his arms around the elf, resting their foreheads together. "I love that you believe in me," he smiled, planting a gentle kiss on Legolas' jaw.

"I love that you're so easy to believe in," Legolas whispered in his ear.

_wimtbwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

One morning about two weeks later the Host of the West – joined now by the ringbearer and his unwaveringly loyal Sam – had almost reached Minas Tirith when Mithrandir requested a halt. "There is one last thing that must be done before we return to the White City," he offered in explanation to the rest of the fellowship and Eomer. "It will not take long."

"I suppose a brief halt wouldn't hurt," said Eomer. "But it must be just that – brief. The men are weary and longing to see those they left behind. I myself am anxious to discover why my sister didn't come when I asked her to join us at Cormallen."

"We will arrive at Minas Tirith soon enough," promised Mithrandir. "But right now I need for Aragorn and Legolas to come with me."

"To where?" asked Aragorn curiously.

"To the slopes of Mount Mindolluin," answered the wizard, gesturing to the nearby mountain.

Leaving the others in charge. The couple followed Mithrandir to the mountain. "Why have you brought us here?" asked Aragorn as they stood on a great slope that overlooked the surrounding lands for miles.

"Do you see that land?" asked Mithrandir. They nodded wordlessly. "That will be yours; a part of the realm of Gondor once again." He sighed. "I brought you here to charge you with a great responsibility, but also to give you hope. The time of the elves is over; with the destruction of the one ring must also come the end of the power of the three elven rings. All that was made by them will now fade. While some elves won't leave these shores until the end of your lifetimes and beyond, it will be your responsibility as king and prince consort of Gondor to see to it that not all of what was good and beautiful about the age of the Elves is forgotten."

"You can depend on us to do at least that," promised Legolas. "The glory of the first three ages will not be forgotten in the realm of Gondor."

"Wonderful," said Mithrandir, suddenly cheerful. "Now we come to the hope. I have foreseen that the ancient realm of Gondor will be restored and all the lands will come together under the mantle of the king."

"It will," agreed Aragorn, stealing a glance at his lover. "I will no longer doubt that. I just wish that there was a sign of this, something that shows all of Middle Earth that the time has come for the return of the king."

Mithrandir's eyes glinted. "Turn around then, and look no further for a sign," he instructed.

They turned and saw that on the stony slopes of the mountain stood one lone sapling. "What is this?" wondered Legolas, going forward with Aragorn to get a better look. "How did this young tree come to be in such a place? It can't be more than seven years old." He examined it closer and gasped. "Ai, Elbereth! It's –"

"A White Tree," finished Aragorn in awe. "A symbol of the kings of Gondor and a descendent of Telperion, the eldest of trees from Valinor."

"In the hour that it's needed it's ready," Mithrandir said. "The order has been given for the dead White Tree in the courtyard to be uprooted and buried with reverence. Minas Tirith awaits the new Tree – and the new king."

With shaking hands, Aragorn and Legolas gently tugged on the trunk. The Tree was pulled easily from the ground, roots and all, as if it had been waiting for someone to come for it. Aragorn bore it as the three walked back to where the army had halted. "It's time," said Aragorn gravely to the others. "Let's order the host to move out at once."

The troops, eager to return to the city and wondering at the sapling and its affect on Aragorn and Legolas' moods, complied at once. The rest of the short march passed by in a blur until they reached the damaged gates of the city. "The Host of the West has returned!" announced Mithrandir. "Open the gates for them, and to receive Elessar, Isildur's heir, as your king!"

The gates opened slowly to reveal a massive crowd. Mithrandir entered first, followed closely by Aragorn. On either side of the Man rode Frodo and Legolas. "I am Elessar," announced Aragorn in a loud, clear voice. "I come to the city to claim the throne of Gondor. With me I bring to you the living White Tree of the kings. Will you have me?"

"_Yea!"_ shouted the crowd in one voice.

With that answer, Aragorn – with the others following – rode slowly through the levels of the city. When he and the crowd reached the awaiting hole in the citadel courtyard, he dismounted. "With the planting of this tree," he called out, holding the sapling aloft before placing it in the ground and starting to cover the roots with dirt, "I vow to you all that the ancient realm of the kings will be restored and renewed."

The crowd cheered his words as he completed the planting of the tree. When the last bit of dirt was in place, Legolas dismounted Arod and walked to Aragorn's side. The crowd gasped in wonder; for many it was the first time they'd ever seen an elf, and they were amazed to see the Sun Star – who was accounted exceptionally beautiful even among the elves – join hands with their soon-to-be-crowned king.

Aragorn brought the back of Legolas' hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. "You said we'd be here, my love," he murmured, "and here we are. We stand together in before the living White Tree; now all we need is for it to blossom anew."

"I think I can take care of that," Legolas whispered back. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and stared singing a song he'd known since he was an elfling, a song that all wood elves knew and cherished. As the crowd stood marveling, the newly planted White Tree flowered and seemed to grow before their eyes under the nourishment of the elf's song.

To be continued...

_A/N: I'm at least temporarily reprieved from my Spyware problem, with a permanent solution coming soon. Yay!_

_I received some questions that should have been answered in the last chapter, had I not been so distracted by my computer woes. As you can see, no elf except for Legolas showed up at the battle before the Black Gate or at any other one, with the excpetion of Helm's Deep. That's because their own settlements are being attacked and they really can't spare the forces. They're holding the line in the north so that the evil forces there can't join the battles that our heroes are fighting in. The elven force was sent to Helm's Deep because the situation there was especially desperate and (in my interpretation for this story) Elrond was still doing everything in his power to protect Aragorn at that point. Once Legolas became mortal and Aragorn got the sword, both Elrond and Thranduil came to realize that they had to let their sons become leaders and respected warriors to all that met them, and for that to happen they had to stand back and allow them to fight their own fights._


	35. Family reunions

Aragorn stood waiting with anxious excitement at the damaged gates of Minas Tirith. Beside him was Hasufel, who shook his head and rattled the reins that the Man held in his hand. "Patience, my friend," soothed Aragorn, not able to contain his smile. "They'll be here soon."

Hasufel stamped his foot. "I won't go to the coronation until my family gets here," Aragorn argued stubbornly. "Besides, _I'm_ the one being crowned; I don't think they can start the ceremonies without me."

The horse merely snorted. "The Valar save me from judgmental horses!" said Aragorn, thoroughly exasperated. "I won't be late."

"Are you really _that _lonely, Estel?" asked a familiar – and long-missed – voice.

Aragorn spun around to see Elladan and Elrohir perched on top of their horses. "Perhaps, dear brother," smirked Elrohir to his twin, "Estel has no one else to argue with."

"If that is the case," said Elladan as he dismounted, followed quickly by Elrohir, "I'd say we've arrived just in time. It's a lot more fun to argue with brothers than with horses."

"I don't know," teased Aragorn, secretly relieved at how easy and natural it was to banter with his brothers even after so much had happened and changed. "I think I've had more intelligent conversations with Hasufel here than I ever had with either of you."

"Only because you two are so well-matched intellectually," shot back Elladan with a merry laugh.

"Enough!" cried Elrohir, though he was laughing himself. "If we continue on like this you really will miss your own coronation, Estel."

"Coronation _and _wedding," added Elladan as the twins engulfed their younger brother is a gigantic hug. "It's good to see you again, you hairy little brat," he added in a tearful whisper.

"We were both so worried about you," piped in Elrohir, squeezing Aragorn's head in a hug.

"Oh, for Elbereth's sake!" scolded Elrond as he too rode through the gateway. "Don't smother your brother on today of all days."

Aragorn breathed a sigh of contentment at the sight of the elf lord. He broke out of the twins' embrace and ran forward, grabbing the reins of Elrond's horse. "I'm so glad you're here, Ada," he said.

Elrond smile was a little wistful at first as he was reminded of when his son was a child; he'd always grabbed the reins of his horse when he came to greet with abounding enthusiasm, even when he'd only been gone for the afternoon. _'Today is not the day to long for things that can never be again,'_ he thought as he jumped down from his horse to embrace his youngest. "I wouldn't miss this for the world," he told Aragorn firmly. "I'm so proud of you, Estel."

"Even though he was really slow to get here," interjected a grinning Elladan.

"I got here after you two," replied Elrond sternly, turning to the twins, "because I, unlike you, was polite enough to stay with our traveling party. Really now, even if you believe that you don't owe such a courtesy to our own household, you should really show more respect to our guests! What must your grandparents and the group from Lothlorien think of such behavior? Or King Thranduil and the host from Mirkwood, for that matter?"

Aragorn froze. "King Thranduil?" he repeated, not sure if he was ready for this. It had been years since he'd seen the elven king. Would he be furious at him now that Legolas was mortal? Would he try to take his son out of the city? "Where is –"

"I am right here, Aragorn," said Thranduil, his voice betraying no emotion, good or bad, as he rode up next to Elrond's horse.

"I – I," stuttered Aragorn a little. He just couldn't think of anything powerful enough to say that would impress on Thranduil how much he loved Legolas! "I'm sure that you'd like to see Legolas right away," he finally said. "The gates were damaged in a battle, so I'm afraid that no guard can be spared to escort you to him. However – Bergil!"

A young boy who'd been standing nearby, gawking at the elven host, bounded over with nervous enthusiasm. "Yes, my lord?" he asked.

"Do you know in which chamber the Prince Legolas is preparing for this day's events?" questioned Aragorn.

"Yes, my lord," repeated Bergil, nodding emphatically.

"Excellent," declared Aragorn with a smile. "This is King Thranduil of Mirkwood, the prince's father. Will you escort him to where the prince is?"

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Bergil excitedly as his chest puffed in importance. "Would you like me to take care of your horse when we get there, master elf – um, lord elf – no, king –"

"I will not be riding up there," interrupted Thranduil, trying to hide his amused smile. "I have been riding for many days now. It would feel very nice indeed to walk for awhile."

"I'll see to it that your horse is cared for properly," promised Aragorn as Thranduil dismounted. He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'm glad that you've come. Legolas has missed you terribly and it means a lot to the both of us that you chose to be here."

"I thank you," Thranduil replied. His voice and face remained expressionless, but Aragorn could see in his eyes something that he thought he'd never get from Mirkwood's king: approval. "I must say that you have met and exceeded even my loftiest expectations. You will make a fine king – and husband."

Leaving a blushing but thrilled Aragorn with his family, Thranduil followed Bergil though the streets and levels of Minas Tirith. They'd walked in silence for a good while before the boy finally spoke. "Sire? Are you really Prince Legolas' father?"

"Indeed I am."

"He's really something," Bergil told him, his voice full of awe. "I've actually seen him a lot more than most of the other people who didn't march with the Host since I ran errands for the healers after the battle and he was in the Houses of Healing a lot to visit. He's really, really beautiful, if you don't mind my saying."

"I don't mind your saying at all," assured Thranduil, a well-practiced response to an often-voiced opinion. "A father never minds hearing people compliment his child if those who give the compliments are sincere and pure. You are not the only one to have that opinion of him; in fact, he is known as the Sun Star among the elven people."

"Prince Sun Star," repeated Bergil thoughtfully. "Yes, that does suit him well, doesn't it? And all the stuff he's been through too! I've heard that he's endured an avalanche on Caradhas, then went through Moria and into the Golden Wood. That was before he went to Rohan and Fangorn Forest, and helped fight against 10,000 uruk-hai before going to Isengard! Not to mention going through the haunted mountain to fight the corsairs, going up the river to the battle here in their boats, and then on to the Black Gate itself! What a fantastic adventure! Well, here we are."

Bergil hadn't noticed the way Thranduil's face had drained of its color as he recounted Legolas' perilous journey. "Thank you Bergil," he said in a slightly shaking voice. "You may go now."

With a dramatic bow, Bergil departed. Thranduil took a deep breath and knocked on the door before him. "I ate!" he heard his son call from within. "Stop fussing, Gimli!"

"Is that any way to greet your father?" he called back.

"Ada?" The door was thrown open and Legolas stood before him, alive and well despite all of the dangers he'd faced in the past months. "Ada, I'm so happy you're here!" he cried, flinging his arms around his father.

Thranduil held his son as tightly as he could, realizing that he'd never let himself dare to believe that he was indeed safe and happy until that moment. "My Little Greenleaf," he sobbed in relief as the tears fell from his eyes.

"Why the tears?" teased Legolas gently, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "Oh, come inside before someone sees and everyone's talking about the two elves weeping in public. There are a lot of, um, _observant_ Men in Minas Tirith."

As he came inside and shut the door, Thranduil got the first good look at his son that he'd had in months. Legolas looked even more beautiful than he'd remembered. It wasn't because of his fine elven clothes, or that his silver-blue tunic seemed to make him glow all the more. There was something different about him; something less tangible. It wasn't his obvious joy, as he'd seen his son happy on several occasions. Then he understood – his son was now filled with a sense of peace that was clear to see in his expression. "You are content," he observed.

"I am," Legolas confirmed with a serene smile. "For a very long time, even before I met Aragorn, I always felt like I was either tied to the ground, blowing in the wind, or else receiving only temporary reprieves from my life and teasings about the way things could be. But not now, Ada; I know I'm where I belong – I can _feel _it." His face clouded over slightly. "Please be happy for me."

Thranduil looked him straight in the eye. "I am happy for you, Legolas," he said, and he meant it. "I will not pretend that it does not break my heart to be parted from you, but I would rather you be happy and lost to me than to stay with the elves and be miserable."

"You don't know if I'll be lost to you," replied Legolas quietly. "Perhaps it will only be a longer time than it would have been before we see each other again."

The elven king took his son in his arms again. "In that case, I won't be as grieved," he murmured, squeezing tightly. "Come now," he continued, releasing Legolas, "there shall be no talk of grief and despair today. You are almost ready to be married."

Legolas frowned. "Almost?"

"Yes, almost," Thranduil told him in a light scolding tone. He reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out the circlet of mithril that Legolas had always worn at Mirkwood's court functions. "You are still the prince of Mirkwood, even if you are going to remain in this city of Men. It is only fitting that you wear your crown."

"Yes it is," affirmed Legolas with pride as his father carefully positioned the circlet on his head. He was just finished straightening it when there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" the elf prince called.

"Four hobbits, coming to get you for the ceremonies!" Pippin's voice called back.

Grinning, Legolas opened the door. "Greetings, my friends," he said warmly. "Ada, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Frodo Baggins – Bilbo's heir – , Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took –"

"But we're mostly called Merry and Pippin," interjected Pippin.

"– and this, my dear hobbits," continued Legolas, "is my father, King Thranduil of Mirkwood."

"Mae govannen, your majesty," greeted Frodo as he and his kinsmen bowed. Thranduil nodded in acknowledgment and greeting.

"Gandalf sent us to let you know that the coronation's about to start," Sam informed him. "You sure look pretty, Mr. Legolas, if you don't mind my saying. You've never looked so, well, _elf-like_ before."

"Thank you, Sam."

"We brought Arod up so you could ride him there, if you want," chimed in Pippin. "He looks pretty too, with his mane and tail all washed and brushed."

"Pippin!" scolded Merry in embarrassed horror, seeing Thranduil's eyebrows shoot up at the comment. "It's not proper or polite to compare how Legolas looks with how his horse looks!"

"I didn't!" replied Pippin indignantly, but his face fell a little as he repeated his comment in his head. "Well, I didn't _mean _to..."

"Don't worry, Pippin," assured Legolas, smiling warmly at the little hobbit and the memory he'd just evoked. "I know what you meant to say and you're not even the first person to compare me to my horse. There was one other that I know of."

"And where is he now?" asked Pippin nervously, throwing a glance at Thranduil.

"I cannot say for certain," replied Legolas, having to bite back laughter at Pippin's expression. "But I suppose I'll find out when I marry him today."

To be concluded...

_A/N: This story has now has over 300 reviews! Thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to review; it means so much to me._


	36. When dreams come true

Aragorn stood with his head bowed slightly as Mithrandir reverently placed the winged crown of Gondor on his head. "Now beings the days of the king," announced the wizard grandly.

_'Funny,'_ the Man thought, almost in his own little world. _'This doesn't weigh as much as I thought it would.'_ He raised his eyes up to Mithrandir. "Thank you for telling me," he whispered.

Mithrandir raised his bushy eyebrows in question. Aragorn smiled with nostalgia and fulfillment. "I heard you that night," he confided quietly. "When I was ten-years-old and crying myself to sleep because Legolas had left and I was afraid I'd never see him again. You said _'What is meant to be will find a way to be.'_ I was asleep, but I still heard you and I never let go of that."

Mithrandir gave him a grandfatherly smile. "May each and every one of your days be blessed," he whispered back fondly.

Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, Aragorn turned around and faced the crowd for the first time as King Elessar. "This day does not belong to one Man but to all," he declared in a loud, clear, and commanding voice. "Let us now rebuild this world so that we may share it in peace."

The crowd responded in a resounding cheer. Aragorn wondered fleetingly how loud they'd be cheering if they realized just how much work and time would be required in order to restore the ancient realm and bring Minas Tirith back to glory, but he quickly banished the thought. This was not the time for cynicism, but for celebration and tradition. It was time to remind them of their past and to honor Elendil by renewing his vow.

He closed his eyes, recalling from his childhood schooling what Elendil said when he came to the shores of this land, and sang out solemnly:

Et Earello Endorenna utulien. Sinome marvuvan ar Hildimyar tenn' 

Ambar-metta! _(Out of the Great Sea to the Middle Earth I am come. _

_In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.)_

Rose petals that seemed to fall out of the sky surrounded Aragorn as he walked down the steps. Once he'd reached the crowd, his family was immediately at his side. Tears were in Elrond's eyes as he said. "I am so proud of you, ion nin. _So_ proud."

The four walked forward as the crowd parted in front of them. "This is it, little brother," said Elladan in a whisper. "Are you ready for the moment you've been waiting for?"

A gasp that rose from the crowd cut off Aragorn's response. The parting crowd had revealed a large group of elves, but that wasn't the reason for the gasp. The reason was walking at the group's head, slightly in front of his father and barely restraining himself from running forward into the arms of the newly crowned king. Legolas seemed to be glowing with both happiness and an inner light. A murmur ran through the people as they realized just how beautiful the Sun Star of the elven people truly was.

Legolas never took his eyes off of Aragorn as they both moved away from their families and met in the middle. The Man stared at his intended as if mesmerized. Legolas, always a prince well versed in court etiquette, bowed his head to show the Gondorian people that he respected Aragorn's position as king. Aragorn quickly snapped out of his daze to grab his chin, gently raise his head, and finally to capture the elf's mouth in a soul-searing kiss.

"This is real," said Aragorn in awe as the crowd cheer yet again. "We're going to be married right now. This is real and you're real."

Legolas gave him an indulgent yet playful smile. "Was there some question about the matter?" he asked teasingly. "Do I not feel real?"

"I'll have to count every strand of your hair just to make sure," replied Aragorn as he buried his face in Legolas' golden hair. The elf let out a joyful laugh. "However," Aragorn continued, whispering in that pointed ear, "the real test will come tonight when I most thoroughly touch and kiss every inch of your body."

Legolas turned his face into Aragorn's neck so that the crowd wouldn't see his naughty grin. "I shall have to hold you to your word," he replied with feigned exaggerated propriety. "But first we must attend to the matter at hand."

"Of course," agreed Aragorn readily, though he was reluctant in breaking their embrace. He took Legolas' hand and together they walked back up the stairs to stand in front of Mithrandir. Once they'd reached the spot where Aragorn had been crowned only moments before, they turned and looked out over the crowd. The four hobbits were there, gleeful and excited. Gimli stood slightly behind the wizard and was practically swelling with pride. King Eomer stood with his people while Eowyn beamed with happiness from her place at Faramir's side. The elves – Elrond, the twins, Galadriel, Celeborn, even Thranduil – had dropped their customary trademark serene expressions, showing how thrilled they were. Aragorn remembered the dark vision he'd had at Amon Hen, when he was tempted by the ring, and smiled knowingly. In the end, he realized, the ring would never have been able to offer him anything that he wasn't capable of achieving himself – and making him a better Man for having done so.

"This is Prince Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood," he announced proudly so that all could hear. "His name means Greenleaf, a symbol of hope for the elven people, and is also called the Sun Star. The realm of Gondor has my fealty and he, who I now take as my husband, holds my heart."

"With my love of King Elessar," declared Legolas, "also comes my love for his kingdom. My heart could never belong to anyone but him, and my fealty now belongs first to Gondor. I take him now as my husband and this land as my home."

Mithrandir took their clasped hands into his own and held them aloft for all to see. "This union has been 77 years in the making," he called out. "The blessings of both families have been bestowed upon it. Now is time for the people of Gondor to decide: will you accept this marriage, for Elessar your king to wed Prince Legolas and make him the prince consort? Is now the time for the Sun to shine on the world of Men?"

The crowd responded in one voice: "_Yea!"_

_wimtbwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

The celebration showed no sign of dying down as the night wore on. Aragorn and Legolas were more than ready to retire to their bechamber, but circumstances kept getting in the way. First they had to endure the Gondorian nobles, who used a lot of words to let them know (with varying degrees of sincerity) how pleased they were for the new royal couple. Legolas laughed inwardly as he silently thanked all of the troubadours he'd endured for making him learn how to handle a lot of flowery words and hot air.

When the couple finally escaped the nobles, a good number of their families and friends were waiting. Thankfully, Mithrandir had shooed the hobbits away after a short congratulations and the elves from Rivendell and Lothlorien were restrained by both etiquette and the respective lords and lady. King Thranduil, however, seemed reluctant indeed to let Legolas and Aragorn go off into the night.

"The elves are leaving Mirkwood," Thranduil told them.

"All of our people?" asked Legolas in dismayed surprise. "All of you intend to take the ships to the Undying Lands soon?"

"Not I," replied Thranduil fondly. "I will not forsake this land as long as you are in it, and a number of our people plan to stay with me. But a good many will leave soon for the harbors and it does not seem right that those who remain must stay in caves and do battle with spiders to defend a kingdom that cannot last much longer. We would rather bless the fair woods of Ithilien in these dwindling years. It is close to the river that leads to the sea – and to you, my Little Greenleaf."

As the two wood elves hugged, Aragorn pondered what his life would be like with his father-in-law living so close by. _'Oh, well,' _he decided, resigned. _'It's probably best if I don't think about it right now.'_ He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the smaller person approached them until he was almost at their sides. "Gimli!" he exclaimed.

"I don't mean to interrupt anything," said the dwarf, casting a wary look at Thranduil. "I just wanted to offer you both my congratulations.

Legolas moved away from his father and embraced Gimli. "Thank you," he said tearfully. "There was no way I could have gotten through all of this without you."

"Come now, none of that kind of talk, laddie," soothed Gimli gently. "This isn't a goodbye by any means. Why, there's too much stonework and repairs to be done for that! I'll be here for a very long time."

Thranduil _and _Gimli hovering around for a very long time. Aragorn hoped they didn't notice the soon-to-be-long-suffering look on his face. At this rate they were never going to get out of there! Just then an evil plan popped into the new king's mind. "King Thranduil, this is Gimli son of Gloin," he said smoothly. "Legolas and I must go now, but you two talk; you have so much in common."

Elf and dwarf stared uncomfortably at each other as Aragorn gently but insistently steered his husband away from his overprotective father and father figure. Neither Thranduil nor Gimli had been in a situation quite like this before. "Gimli," Thranduil said finally in a thoughtful tone. "Legolas called me that when I knocked on his door this morning. He said something about eating and not fussing."

"That lad!" Gimli rolled his eyes in exasperation. "He was refusing to eat anything, saying he was too excited and nervous, or some other such nonsense. I tell you, he doesn't know how to take care of himself! Not sleeping and always worrying and never thinking about what's best for him. Why, he wasn't even going to tell Aragorn about his mortality at first because he didn't want to burden him."

"_Burden him!"_ burst out Thranduil. "He should have told him right away. It was Aragorn's responsibility too; he needed to know!"

"That's what I said!" commiserated Gimli as they sat down at a table.

"Tell me everything, master dwarf," insisted the elven king.

Across the room, Legolas groaned. "They're talking about me," he informed his husband.

"They have a lot to say on that topic," teased Aragorn. Legolas shot him a filthy look. "My love, they may be talking about you right now, but they'll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. Just think – Eowyn!"

The White Lady of Rohan smiled as she approached them. "Greetings," she said. "I wanted to tell you both how happy I am for you."

"I believe that sentiment is also called for in your case," Aragorn told her. "There are many whispers going around about the steward of the city and his engagement to the Lady of the Eorlingas. Where is Faramir?"

"He and Eomer are currently having – how did my brother put it? – a gentlemanly discussion on the proper behaviors of a husband." Eowyn replied with an exasperated scoff. Her face brightened and the couple realized that this was the first time they'd seen her look truly joyful. "I am happy, though. I won't delay you any longer; I just wanted to thank you for, well, everything."

Legolas hugged her briefly. "I'm so happy for you," he told her. "It's always nice to see a fellow caged bird escape."

Another blonde elf approached her as Legolas and Aragorn departed. "Are you Eowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan?" he inquired.

"Yes," she replied hesitantly. "Who are you?"

"My name is Glorfindel."

"Glorfindel?" Eowyn repeated in awe. "The very same elf who slew the balrog, the one in those songs?"

"The very same," Glorfindel told her. "I'm pleased and honored to finally meet you in person."

"That's very kind of you," she blushed, "but I don't see how you could've waited too long to meet me."

"On the contrary," he explained. "I've been waiting for thousands of years, ever since the first time I saw you. It was during a battle with the Witch-king and his forces. I saw you defeat him in a vision and knew that it could only be you who did the deed. In fact, I told the others there that no man would ever destroy him. It is a great honor to finally know your name."

_wimtbwimtbwimtbwimtbwimtb_

"We made it!" cried Aragorn in triumph as he and Legolas finally walked through the doorway to the private part of the royal chambers.

"And not a moment too soon," grinned Legolas.

"My king, my prince," greeted a servant as he descended the stairs that led to the royal bedchamber. "Your room has been made ready for you, as Mithrandir requested."

"Always the wise and nosy wizard," commented Legolas playfully to Aragorn before he turned to the servant. "Thank you. Would you also see to it that a warm bath is drawn for us in perhaps one -"

"Three," interrupted Aragorn. "It would be best if you made it three."

"Three hours," amended Legolas.

"Yes, my lords," said the servant with bow and departed.

"A bath, huh?" commented Aragorn.

"It's been a long day," replied Legolas with a spark in his eyes. "I think it'll be nice to have a warm bath."

"You do realize that I'm going to be peeking," reveled Aragorn mischievously. "And I'm not even going to feel guilty about it."

"Aragorn!" scolded Legolas with jovial firmness. "The only way you'll be allowed to peek is if you join me. It's about time I did a little peeking of my own."

"I can hardly wait."

"Well, we have three hours before any of that can happen," said Legolas. He stroked Aragorn's face before lowering his hands slightly to unbutton the top clasp on the Man's shirt. "Thankfully, I have an idea of how we can make the time pass quickly."

"I think we have the same plan," moaned Aragorn as Legolas started suckling his neck. "Shall we take this upstairs?"

"With haste, my love," said Legolas emphatically. Leaning against each other, Legolas and Aragorn ascended the stairs, ready and eager to being the first night of their life together.

The end.

_A/N: I can't believe this is actually done! **Thank you so much to everyone who read and who reviewed this story - you people make it all worthwhile **__ I'm sorry that I had to end it where I did, but this is rated PG-13 and let's just say that Aragorn and Legolas have a very nice wedding night. The sequel is in the works - with one chapter already written and plot bunnies still abound - so I'm aiming for next week to begin posting. The title as of now is _What Love Brought into Being_ (but I'm not emotionally attached to it or anything if anyone out there has a better suggestion) and it will most likely go up a rating._


End file.
